


Soliciting For Dracula

by Kymbersmith90



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan Smut, Challenging Hurtful Stereotypes, Dracula Influence/References, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Human/Vampire Relationship, Humor, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2020-11-28 03:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20959958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kymbersmith90/pseuds/Kymbersmith90
Summary: When someone knocks on her front door at almost 9pm on All Hallows’ Eve, Emma is expecting a group of kids on a sugar high. She is not expecting the well-dressed man with an interesting proposal that’s stood on her porch.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [resident_of_storybrooke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/resident_of_storybrooke/gifts), [Forget_me_not_s](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forget_me_not_s/gifts).

> ** Happy Halloween! **
> 
> **This is just a small fic I've been working on to mark the occasion. It's based on a meme that I saw on Facebook at the end of September. The story's completely written and just finishing the editing process now. **
> 
> **All of my thanks go to @Lzod, @vancouverina @resident-of-storybrooke and @forget-me-not-s who encouraged me to turn that meme into a Captain Swan Halloween fic (even though they probably all thought I was crazy for wanting to try). **
> 
> **And special thanks go to @jonirobinson64 for passing her red pen over each chapter and Americanising my Britishisms. **
> 
> **I hope you guys enjoy reading this one as much as I've enjoyed writing it. **

“Trick or treat!” came a chorus of excited voices as Emma pulled open her front door.

“Wow. Don’t you guys look scary,” she said, offering them the bucket of candy she’d bought from the grocery store three weeks earlier, just to make sure that she didn’t get stuck with whatever dregs were left behind. The kids gratefully helped themselves to their favorite pieces and dropped their newest score into their Jack-o-lantern shaped buckets, before they thanked her and skipped off to the next house on the block.

Emma shut the door behind them with a little more force than was absolutely necessary, before tossing her stash of candy aside as she went in search of her second bottle of wine for the evening. She _hated_ Halloween. Ever since she’d moved out of the city, she’d found that every year became less and less fun than the one before it. Her neighbors always seemed to go all out to impress the kids, and the first year she’d been there, she hadn’t bothered to make much of an effort at all. Nobody in the city had ever seemed to expect more than a cheap spiderweb across the door with a fuzzy spider stuck in the middle. But apparently, that wasn’t how things were done in the suburbs, as Emma had woken the next morning to egg staining the front of her house and toilet paper in her bushes and trees. It had taken her weeks to clean up the mess, and when she’d complained to Regina next door, all the evil witch had managed to say was, “Well, what do you expect when you can’t be bothered to make an effort for the kids?”

Since then, Emma had put up decorations like the rest of the cul-de-sac and had invested in the best candy to pass around. But she’d taken absolutely no joy in doing so. Halloween was much less fun when you were being forced to celebrate the occasion just to save yourself from the stench of rotting eggs following you around until Christmas.

A glance outside her window showed there were no more kids in the immediate area and the time was edging closer to nine _pm_, so Emma made her way back to the living room to try and finish the movie she’d been attempting (and failing) to watch all night. She’d only gotten ten minutes into it when the doorbell rang again, and she picked up the nearest couch cushion to stifle her screams of frustration.

Emma did her best to school her features into a somewhat gentle smile as she reached for the bowl of candy once more and then pulled open the front door. But instead of being greeted by a group of kids on a sugar high, she was face-to-face with what was certainly an adult male, dressed in a simple pair of jeans, a plaid shirt, and a black peacoat.

“Good evening, Miss. Do you have a moment to talk about Dracula?”

Emma was already rolling her eyes and preparing to send the religious freak away, when her mind stumbled over the last word he’d spoken.

“No – wait. Dracula?”

“Yes, Miss.” He offered her a disarmingly charming smile and Emma’s eyes widened a little in disbelief.

“What, are you some kind of vampire?” she snorted out. Clearly, someone was taking the spirit of Halloween a little too far that evening.

“Yes. I have a pamphlet if you’d like to browse it.” The guy on her doorstep handed over a folded piece of paper and Emma’s eyes widened comically at the title written in Comic Sans across the top.

_So, You Want to be a Vampire._

“Vampires have missionaries?” she asked, as she opened the leaflet to scan the contents of it. The guy had clearly gone all out in order to sell his joke. Even Emma had to admit that it was a pretty impressive commitment.

“Where else would new vampires come from?” He tilted his head a little as he waited for Emma’s answer, and the action came across as surprisingly innocent on someone trying to sell a bad Halloween joke.

“I just assumed that you ran around biting whoever you wanted to turn,” she replied, playing along for the moment.

The man on her doorstep sighed heavily as he folded his hands in front of himself. “That’s just one of the many hurtful stereotypes we vampires face these days. If you’ll allow me to come in, I can explain everything to you in a little more detail.”

Emma wasn’t sure if it was the bottle of wine she’d already consumed, boredom, plain curiosity or some mixture of the three that had her taking a step back to invite the stranger into her house. She certainly didn’t believe what he was saying, but a part of her was truly interested in seeing just how far he’d take the charade. And it wasn’t like she had anything better to do that evening.

The man nodded his head in thanks before taking one step forward, and then another, to cross her threshold.

“I guess the invite thing is another one of those ‘hurtful stereotypes,’ huh?” she teased.

“I’m afraid so. That one was actually born in the seventh century. A witch used a spell to bar the doors of her home so that her ex-lover couldn’t enter it. She told the townspeople that he couldn’t get in because he was a demonic creature and she hadn’t extended him an invite. He was executed a few days later. It was an awful moment for everyone involved.”

Emma turned to offer him a strange look that clearly communicated just how crazy she thought he was, before she headed for her kitchen.

“And uh… what about the biting thing? Where did that come from?” She gestured to her kitchen table and the ‘vampire’ carefully pulled out a chair to take a seat as she busied herself with preparing some coffee.

“That one was much later. Around the thirteenth century. A young noblewoman had been rebelling against the marriage that had been arranged for her. The final straw came when she was caught by her father in a very compromising position with a stable boy. She had a mark much like a bite on her neck, and in order to avoid being sent to the convent, she told her father that the stable boy was some kind of demon that had been using her to feed himself. She claimed that was why she’d been acting out for so long, and why she shouldn’t be held responsible for her own actions. Of course, it all backfired on her. Someone had read a legend of a creature who turned others by biting them on the neck and both she and the stable boy were burned at the stake that evening.” The man sighed heavily as though the loss had been truly tragic, and Emma wasn’t entirely sure how to react to that.

She’d always considered herself to be a good judge of character. Her mother had said that she was like a portable lie-detector, always sensing when someone wasn’t being truthful with her. But the more she stared at the man sitting at her kitchen table, the more Emma found herself believing him. She knew it was completely unreasonable. There was no such thing as vampires. But her inner lie-detector was as silent as a mouse, so the guy was either the best-damned actor in the world, or he truly believed what he was saying.

Maybe that was it, she told herself. Maybe he wasn’t mentally stable and he believed his own delusions enough that her gut wasn’t reacting to the lies. Either way, Emma knew there was something _off_ about him.

“Would you like some coffee?” she asked, as she tried to diffuse the inner conflict happening inside her own mind. “Wait - do vampires drink coffee?”

“Of course,” he replied simply. “That’s like asking if humans drink coffee.”

“In what way is that the same?” Emma snorted out. She was looking forward to seeing what kind of bullshit explanation he’d come up with to explain his answer.

“Much like humans, we don’t require coffee to sustain us. It’s not a life-giving sustenance. So, much like humans, we drink it because we simply enjoy the taste.”

“Huh.”

Well, when he put it like that, his explanation kind of made sense. And Emma couldn’t believe she was rationalizing the answers of a crazy man.

“So, _Dracula_, how do you take your coffee?”

“Killian.”

“Excuse me?”

“My name’s Killian. Dracula doesn’t do his own soliciting. That would be like sending your President door-to-door asking for campaign donations and votes.”

He had another good point there, and Emma was starting to wonder if maybe she’d fallen into some kind of warped alternate reality where the ramblings of a crazy man suddenly made sense to her. With hindsight, she realized that opening that second bottle of wine probably hadn’t been the best of ideas.

“Cream and three sugars, please,” he tacked on, before adding, “I’m already dead so it’s not like the added sweetness can hurt me.”

Emma rolled her eyes a little at the way his own seemed to sparkle with mischief. He was actually kind of cute when he was being playful. It was just a shame that he was certifiably insane.

“Here ya go,” she told him, as she set a mug down on the table in front of where he was sitting before she rounded the space to take her own seat. “So uh… what about garlic?”

“What about it?”

“Don’t you have to avoid the stuff?”

“God no! I mean, have you ever tried eating Italian food without it? That’s the real horror story here,” Killian argued, as he picked up his mug to take a deep sip of the scalding hot liquid.

Emma was impressed by just how little it seemed to bother him.

“Holy water!”

“It was vodka. And that stuff stings like a bitch when it gets in your eyes! The priest just didn’t want to admit that he was an alcoholic who had more vodka on hand than water.”

Emma snorted into her mug as she picked it up to blow gently across the surface. She’d met more than a few alcoholics in denial before, so that story she could certainly believe.

She racked her brain trying to come up with more vampire stereotypes to throw at the man, just so she could see how he’d explain them away, but she found that she knew surprisingly little about the mythical creatures. Emma much preferred her horror movies to be based on real-life crimes rather than supernatural beings.

“Crucifixes,” she almost yelled at him, when one finally sprang to mind.

“Those can actually do a lot of damage to a vampire if wielded correctly,” Killian stated. He paused to take another sip from his drink before he added, “But any heavy wooden object can if you hit us hard enough with it. That one just _happened_ to be shaped like a crucifix. It was actually part of someone’s garden, I believe. It had been used to steady the trunk of a sapling that kept being destroyed in harsh winds. However, unlike the stereotype, being stabbed through the heart by anything wooden won’t kill us.”

Emma finally braved a sip of her own coffee and Killian watched her curiously as she did. His eyes lingered over the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed the liquid down before they trailed back up to meet her gaze.

“Have I passed your test yet?” he asked innocently.

“I still don’t believe you.”

“Then what can I do to prove to you that I’m telling the truth?” Killian folded his arms across the tabletop as he leaned forward a little in his seat.

“Do something that would prove you’re what you claim to be.”

“And how would I do that? Your kind has only managed to get a handful of myths about our own kind accurate, and most of those are only kernels of truth buried in fiction. Would you like me to sit here for the next decade so that I can prove to you I don’t age?”

“Won’t you turn to dust at dawn?” she sniggered.

“That’s got to be one of the most infuriating stereotypes your kind has,” Killian sighed.

“Okay then, I’ll bite. How did that one come to be?”

“Spontaneous human combustion.” At Emma’s look of complete disbelief, Killian snorted sardonically as he shook his head. “Exactly. It’s hard for your kind to believe that someone could spontaneously catch fire, but you don’t have trouble believing that sunlight will turn an immortal vampire to dust? Seriously? I mean, the sun’s rays are made up of infrared, visible and ultraviolet light. If that were truly harmful to vampires, we’d have to live in dark caves in the middle of nowhere! Your television remote uses infrared technology. I’m not going to spontaneously combust if you point it at me. If visible light was harmful to me, I’d have been ash the moment your porch light came on. And most fluorescent lighting emits ultraviolet rays, but the worst that does to me is highlight just how pale I am.”

Emma snorted out another laugh at the ‘vampire’s’ mini-rant. It was rather cute how much that particular falsehood seemed to irritate him.

“If we got so much wrong, what did we manage to get right?”

“Well, the immortality is real,” Killian told her, as he lifted his head to meet her eyes. “That’s actually our biggest selling point. We also have enhanced speed, senses, and strength. Vampires tend to be slightly more developed than the average human, so we’re not only physically stronger but we’re more mentally advanced than most of your kind. But there isn’t much else you got right.”

Emma turned everything over in her mind for a moment. Given what Killian had just said, if vampires were actually real, she could see the appeal in becoming one. Who wouldn’t want to remain young and beautiful while being strong and smart for the rest of their lives? And it was exactly that thought which reminded her of why she didn’t believe the mad man sitting at her kitchen table. Nothing in life was ever that smooth sailing.

“What about the blood?” Emma asked, cringing a little at the thought of having to swallow down human blood. She couldn’t even bring herself to try Black Pudding when she’d been on holiday in the UK a few years ago, so the thought of having to drink blood to survive turned her stomach a little. “You said that you didn’t bite people to turn them, but don’t you still need blood to survive?”

“Actually, I said we didn’t just go around biting whoever we wanted to turn. We’re not complete savages,” Killian explained. “Before turning someone, the vampire in question first needs to gain informed consent from the human. The human must then be taken through the pros and cons of eternal life at a workshop that’s run every quarter by Dracula’s operation. Only when a contract has been signed by both parties can we begin the process of changing someone.”

“Wait, immortality comes with a day class?” Emma knew there had to be a catch somewhere, and day classes were certainly it.

“Of course it does. _It’s immortality!_ This isn’t something that you can just change your mind about when you get bored twenty years down the line. It’s a decision that deserves to be carefully considered after you’ve been fully informed of the consequences of choosing our life.” Killian allowed that information to sit with Emma for a moment as she finished the rest of her mug of coffee, before he asked, “So, what do you think?”

“What do I think?” Emma repeated, a little bemused by his sudden change of tone. “I think you’re insane,” she replied honestly. “Vampires aren’t… they’re not real, Killian. Nothing you’ve told me tonight proves that they are!”

“So how would you like me to prove myself? If you don’t believe me now, then who’s to say that you won’t find a way to explain anything that I show you? I’ve already told you about how some of the more common legends came to exist. So tell me, Emma, how exactly can I prove myself to you?”

A cold chill ran down Emma’s spine. She pushed back from the table and away from the man still sitting at it as she asked, “How do you know my name? I’ve never told you that.”

“I can see it on your gas bill on the counter over there,” he told her, as he nodded his head in the direction of the stack of unopened mail on Emma’s countertop. “By the way, you’re being ripped off. There’s no way heating a house of this size should cost _that_ much.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” she mumbled, more to herself than to him, as she began pacing the floor. “I can’t believe I _ever_ invited you into my home. What the hell was I thinking?” She finally turned back to look at the crazy man sitting at her kitchen table and told him as firmly as she could, “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Killian fixed her with another of his intense stares for a moment before he nodded his head and stood from his seat. “Of course,” he said, almost like he’d been expecting that this moment would come eventually. He slipped the long fingers of his right hand into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulled out a small, white card before tossing it down on the table between them. “If you change your mind, you know how to reach me. Thank you for your time, Emma. I’ll see myself out.”

He didn’t give her a chance to reply to what he’d said. One second he was standing before her, looking rather dejected when faced with her rejection. The next, he was gone. If it hadn’t been for the business card and pamphlet still sitting on the table, Emma would have assumed that she’d hallucinated the entire thing.

“Killian?” she called out softly, because surely he was playing some kind of trick on her now. There was no way a human could move that fast. Not even Usain Bolt. “Killian?” she asked again, but she got absolutely no reply.


	2. Part II

Emma was a little ashamed to admit that she’d read the pamphlet Killian had left behind cover to cover, over and over on Halloween night, before finally stuffing it into one of the junk drawers in her kitchen.

So what if he’d managed to disappear from her sight quicker than she could blink? That was probably just her mind playing tricks on her. She’d drank almost an entire bottle of wine that evening, while she’d been attempting to finish her movie. And alcohol had a way of dulling the senses, she told herself.

But as the weeks passed without any word from him, Emma found her mind straying towards Killian more and more often. She couldn’t buy garlic from the supermarket without thinking about his comment on how terrible Italian food was without it. Every time she passed a church she’d think of his holy water story. (She’d also stopped buying vodka for that reason too.) Even her remote control made her think of Killian, and how someone might try and wield the device to kill a vampire.

It occurred to her one evening, as she was using the remote to scroll through her television channels, that while Killian had told her vampires were hard to kill, he’d never told her how they could be killed.

Emma was fifteen minutes into the bakery show she’d been attempting to watch when she realized that she had no idea what was going on. Her mind had been busy trying to recall everything that she’d seen in movies and TV shows about vampire deaths, and now she needed some answers.

Her feet had carried her back through to the kitchen before she’d really permitted them to move, and after hesitating for a brief moment, she opened up her junk drawer. It took a little bit of rummaging around inside of it to first pull out the pamphlet, and then the small business card that Killian had left behind. Emma hadn’t really paid attention to the card after it had been left, so when she scanned the information on it, she couldn’t help but snort out a laugh.

_Killian Jones_   
_ Lead Recruiting Agent for DracCorp._   
_ North America Division 3._

_Telephone number: +40-788-900738_

_Email: killianjones@draccorp.ro_

“DracCorp?” she sniggered to herself. “Jesus Christ he’s insane.”

But that didn’t stop her from tapping out the message, **Can you be staked?** and sending it to the phone number listed on the card. Emma figured that if she got a reply, it would probably be from some poor sap who thought she’d gotten the wrong number.

She tucked her phone into her pocket and then poured herself another glass of wine to carry back through to the living room with her. After making herself comfortable on the sofa she tried to offer what was left of the baking show her full attention - until her phone vibrated with an incoming message.

“Here we go,” she mumbled to herself, as she pulled up the text from Killian Jones’s number.

_That really depends on a few different factors. Could you stake me with one of those twigs they used in Buffy The Vampire Slayer? No! Could Dracula stake me with the trunk of a tree? Yes! But it wouldn’t kill me._

Emma was a little stunned that he hadn’t even bothered asking who was messaging him. And she was even more shocked that his number had actually worked. She’d never seen one look like his before, so she pulled up Google on her phone to see if the internet could help to identify it for her. It took her a few different combinations of words with the number for her to finally be redirected to a Wikipedia page, which claimed it was of Romanian origin.

“Of course it is,” she sighed to herself. Killian had certainly gone all out in his attempts to fool her. But he was going to run out of material soon.

**What does that even mean?** she sent back.

_It means that driving a wooden object through my heart won’t kill me. My heart no longer beats. There is no blood to push around my system. Destroying it would only cause me a great deal of pain, but it would take a very strong vampire to make that happen. And as a rule, we try not to kill our own kind._

**So how can you be killed?**

_Fire. But you’d need to burn every part of the body. Anything that remains will still be animated by the curse. And trust me, loose hands can cause BIG problems if left unattended._

Emma wasn’t really sure where to begin unpacking that statement. Did he honestly expect her to believe that if she cut off his hand, it would just run around her kitchen? The vibration of her phone startled her out of thoughts of a hand terrorizing her town, and she turned her attention back to Killian’s latest message.

_So, does this mean that you believe me now?_

**No. I still think you’re insane**, she tapped out, because it was the God’s honest truth. **But I’m interested in just how far you think you can take this charade. So I’m calling your bluff! Sign me up for the workshop!**

Emma’s phone fell silent for the next ten minutes. She was just about to get up and pour herself another drink to celebrate her victory when it vibrated once again. This time, Killian had only sent a picture to their message thread. Or, more precisely, a screenshot. Emma hesitated a little before she opened it up to read what was written on it.

_Congratulations, Miss Swan!_

_You have been successfully registered for the **So, You’re Thinking Of Becoming a Vampire** workshop in **Boston, Massachusetts.**_

_The event will take place on **Wednesday, December 4th, 2019** at:_

** _Boston Marriott Copley Place,_ **   
** _ 110 Huntington Ave,_ **   
** _ Boston,_ **   
** _ MA 02116,_ **   
** _ The United States of America._ **

_Please arrive at 8:30 am so that we can get you registered and settled in before our event program begins at 9:00 am._

_If you wish to inform a relative or friend of where you will be going and need us to contact them to clarify anything, please fill out the ‘Notify a friend’ form on our website www.draccorp.ro/workshops/friend and submit a copy of it to us no later than 3 days before the event._

_All terms and conditions can be found on our website at www.draccorp.ro/workshops/terms and if you need anything before your visit, please don’t hesitate to reach out to your recruitment agent or shoot us an email at customerservice@draccorp.ro_

_We look forward to seeing you soon._

_All the best,_

_Belle French_   
_ Personal Assistant to Count Dracula._

“Fuck,” she cursed, as she read it through again. Now she was gonna need to beg Zelena for the day off, just so she could call this Killian Jones out on his insane bullshit.

* * *

While Emma didn’t hear from Killian again in the days that followed their messages, she certainly hadn’t forgotten about him.

It had taken all of her willpower to resist googling the website in the screenshot seconds after she’d received his last message. Instead, she had finished her bakery show and the bottle of wine she had open and then headed up to bed. But the next morning, Emma hadn’t been able to hold back any longer and had tapped the website address into a new browser window as she waited for her coffee to brew.

She was a little surprised by just how professional the website for DracCorp appeared to be. Whoever Killian had hired to design it clearly knew what they were doing. Or maybe he’d designed the site himself? Maybe he wasn’t actually insane, he was just a very clever con man? Or some combination of the two?

She scrolled through the homepage, which hailed DracCorp as the world’s only official source for all things vampiric, before navigating down the menu. There was a section briefly detailing the mission of DracCorp, and how the company aimed to change the public’s negative perceptions of vampires. It then went on to list some of the charitable causes around the globe that DracCorp backed, many of which Emma had donated to herself.

The next page was dedicated to the workshops that DracCorp ran worldwide, and Emma chuckled as she browsed through the subcategories that were listed on the page.

_So, You’re Thinking Of Becoming A Vampire._

_You’ve Signed The Contract, What Comes Next?_

_Telling Your Loved Ones About Your Change._

_Responsible Feeding Techniques._

_Making Humans Feel Comfortable Around You._

_How To Make The Most Of Eternal Life._

_Stock Market Tips For The Long Game._

_Real Estate And Décor Ideas For A More Inviting Home._

_Volunteering For DracCorp._

“Fucking insane,” she whispered to herself, as she clicked on each section in turn to quickly browse through the content of each of the workshops. The one about putting humans at ease was particularly enjoyable. Emma had snorted coffee out of her nose as she’d read the lines, _“Try offering them a cup of tea or coffee when they arrive. Hot beverages are often seen as comforting to humans.”_

By the time she’d finished her drink, Emma had already enjoyed a good laugh that morning and was in a pretty good mood as she headed to work.

It was only when her computer crashed, taking over an hour’s worth of work with it, that a thought suddenly occurred to her. Emma waited for the PC to reboot itself and then finished the project that she’d been working on before it had crashed. But when she was done, instead of heading up to the on-site restaurant for lunch, she found herself heading down.

The IT department was located on the lower-ground floor and was practically empty so close to lunchtime. Emma made her way carefully around the small cubicles and towards the office of the department manager to rap her knuckles on the wooden door.

“Come in,” Graham called from inside, and she took a moment to straighten out her skirt before she did just that. “Emma. What brings you down here today?” he asked, as his eyes flicked up and down her form.

Emma knew that Graham had a crush on her. He’d asked her out a few times since she’d moved to town, and she’d always politely turned him down. So it was perhaps a little mean for her to try and use his feelings to manipulate him into helping her out. But Emma’s curiosity was just too strong to make her turn away.

“You’re probably gonna think this is silly,” she chuckled, as she made her way over to stand in front of his desk. “I have this friend who claims to be a genius at tech stuff. He’s so good that he’s thrown together this bogus website to try and trick people into thinking Dracula actually exists.”

Graham cocked a brow at her in question and Emma laughed along with him. “Yeah, I know,” she giggled. “Told ya it was silly. I’m just… he claims that he’s so good, even the best IT guys wouldn’t see that it was fake. And I figured that you might be up for that challenge? I just kinda wanna rub it in his face, you know? So if I gave you the website address, do you think that you could do some digging for me? Dinner’s on me if you can find anything good.”

“Of course,” Graham replied, a little too eagerly. “What am I looking for?”

“Anything that would make it obvious that it’s a bogus site. Like, do the contact details actually lead anywhere? Whose name is it registered to? Can you tell which country it originates from? That sort of thing.”

Graham nodded his head again. “Sure. I can do that. If you jot the web address down for me, I’ll do some digging on my lunch hour.”

“Oh, there’s no rush,” Emma assured him. She pulled a stack of post-it notes towards her and then reached for one of the pens in Graham’s NASA mug. “Take as much time as you need.”

When she was finished, she pushed the stack of post-it’s back towards him and turned to leave, but was stopped by Graham’s snort of, “DracCorp?”

“Told ya it was silly,” she chuckled. “Thanks again, Graham.”

* * *

Three days later, Emma was just getting ready to head home for the evening when she turned to find Graham standing behind her desk.

“Shit!” she cursed. “You scared me! We ought to put a bell on you. What’s up?”

“I uh… I did some digging for you on that website you gave me,” he began, clutching the folder in his hands a little tighter. “I’m really sorry, Emma. Whoever your friend is, he’s clearly better at this stuff than I am. I couldn’t find anything that you could use to call it out as fake.”

Graham reluctantly handed over the file that he’d put together for her, before taking a step back and frowning down at his shoes.

“Don’t worry about it, Graham,” she soothed, as she tucked it straight into her purse. “He’s good at what he does. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’ll pick a night for dinner soon, okay?”

The IT manager’s head snapped up at Emma’s words, and the wounded puppy-dog eyes he’d been giving her before changed almost instantly to a bright and beaming smile. Clearly, he’d been more worried about the lack of a date than letting Emma down.

“Okay. Cool. I’ll uh… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow,” Emma assured him, before she swung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the exit, calling out a goodbye to Zelena on her way.

Graham wasn’t a bad guy, he just really wasn’t Emma’s type. And given the news that he’d delivered to her that evening, she was far more interested in getting home to see what he’d found, than planning a date with a man that she knew she probably wouldn’t enjoy.

Emma had barely closed the front door behind herself before she was wrestling the file Graham had prepared from her bag. She just managed to find enough self-control to keep it closed as she made her way through to the kitchen, and dropped it down onto the table. But after ordering Chinese take-out for dinner and opening a bottle of her favorite wine, she seated herself comfortably and pulled open the front cover of the folder, eager to see what Graham had found.

The first piece of paper showed a table of information about the website itself, and Emma’s eyes widened a little in surprise as she took in the numbers printed across it. According to Graham’s research, the website had been created on October 31st, 1991. Emma wasn’t even sure the internet had existed back then. Graham hadn’t been able to find a name for the person who had registered the site, but according to what he had been able to find, it had been registered to a company called DracCorp in Transylvania, Romania.

The next couple of sheets of paper showed a few dummy messages he’d sent to the email addresses listed on the _Contact Us, We Won’t Bite (unless you ask us to)_ page of the site, and the automated replies he’d gotten to each of them. There was even a full reply from someone claiming to be a Miss T. Bell who worked for their customer service department. She had explained that the next workshop due to be held in Canada was currently being scheduled, and that she would be sure to email him as soon as she had more details.

The final few pages appeared to be research he’d done on the telephone numbers connected to the website. While once again he had struggled to find a name for who had registered each number, Graham’s research had proven that they were all of Romanian origin, (the Transylvanian region, to be exact). And he’d even gone as far as using an app he’d created to place a call to each one, which had connected every single time.

Emma was now even more certain than she had been before that Killian wasn’t just insane, he was some kind of computer genius. She just didn’t know what he had hoped to gain from the whole situation.

Emma wasn’t sure if it was the wine in her system, or if it was just the sheer outlandishness of the situation she’d found herself in, but as she pushed aside the file she reached for her phone once more to send ‘the vampire’ another message.

**Transylvania? Really? You couldn’t have come up with something more creative?**

Killian’s reply came back so fast that Emma barely had time to set her phone down before it was vibrating with his message.

_That was one part of the legends that your kind managed to get right. Although, if Bram Stoker really did base part of his Dracula’s attributes on Vlad The Impaler, he got that VERY wrong._

**So, Vlad wasn’t a vampire? Even with a name like Vlad Dracula?**

_Stoker might have taken the name from Vlad (Dracul was actually a pretty common name in Romania during that time, thanks to the Order of the Dragon) but Vlad wasn’t one of us. He was, however, a very unstable man who had an unhealthy obsession with vampires after one of his ancestors was rumored to have been turned against his will. It’s why Vlad impaled most of his victims. He thought he’d been staking vampires, but as you know, it takes more than a stick through the body to kill a vampire._

**So what you’re saying is… he was crazy?**

_I didn’t know him personally but I believe if he’d been born in modern times, he would have been diagnosed with more than a few mental health issues. He wasn’t entirely delusional, though. One of his distant ancestors is one of our kind._

**Let me guess – Dracula?**

_You’d know him as Dracula, yes. Those of us who know him well are encouraged to use his true name._

Emma couldn’t believe what she was about to type but her curiosity was far too strong to hold her back now.

**And what is Dracula’s true name?**

_Nicholas._

She read the simple message back to herself three times before a sharp bark of laughter made its way up her throat and out into the world. Emma laughed so hard that when the delivery boy arrived with her food, tears were streaming down her face. After waving away his concern and smothering a few more chuckles, she returned to her kitchen to begin unpacking her meal.

“_Nicholas_… He’s fucking insane,” she told herself, before taking the first bite of her dinner.


	3. Part III

Emma still couldn’t quite believe that she’d made the journey to Boston as she checked into her hotel suite that afternoon. While the ‘workshop’ was set to take place the following day, she’d decided that as she was taking time off work to finally put a stop to this elaborate prank, she could at least make the most of the time she would be spending in the city. She hadn’t gotten out of Storybrooke in years, and Emma missed the hustle and bustle that only city life could provide.

After dropping her luggage off in the suite she’d splurged on, Emma headed out to do some last-minute holiday shopping. Now that Thanksgiving was over, the stores were fully focused on Christmas. With the snow softly falling and the lights twinkling overhead, she was finally starting to feel somewhat festive.

When she returned to her suite later that evening, Emma was laden down with gifts she’d picked up for David and Mary-Margaret, along with some new toys for the baby they were currently expecting. So as far as she was concerned, regardless of what happened the following morning, the trip hadn’t been a complete waste of her vacation days.

* * *

When Emma pulled back the curtains in her bedroom the next morning, she wasn’t at all surprised to see the city blanketed in white. The snowfall wasn’t heavy enough to warrant canceling the event (not that she truly believed there would be an event to consider canceling) but it was enough to have her wrapping up warm, given that she had no idea what this ‘workshop’ would fully entail or if they would need to leave the hotel. It was a shame, really. A part of her had wanted to dress to impress, as she assumed that Killian would be present for whatever he had planned. Emma only hoped that her tight dark-wash jeans and form-fitting, grey, turtleneck sweater would be enough to show him just what his crazy prank had cost him.

After downing a mug of coffee and what might have been the best eggs benedict she’d ever had, Emma ran a brush through her long blonde waves and grabbed her leather jacket to head downstairs. She had absolutely no idea what would happen during the ‘workshop,’ so she wanted to take a few moments just to prepare herself for anything and everything that Killian was planning to throw her way.

It took her a few minutes of wandering the hotel’s corridors to finally find the room that she was looking for. Killian had hired a small conference room for the day. It was located at the back of the building, away from prying eyes and close to the hotel’s parking lot. Emma assumed that it was probably the cheapest room in the entire building, and for a moment she wondered just how much he’d spent on this extravagant prank of his.

She wasn’t quite ready to face whatever he had planned for her inside of that room, however, so Emma continued towards the exit. The workshop wasn’t technically due to start until nine, so she had a few minutes to kill. As her eyes scanned the cars filling the parking spaces, she wondered if any of them belonged to people who had also been tricked into attending this damned course on eternal life. Or maybe Killian had hired some actors to sell his prank. If he was as crazy as Emma thought he was, she couldn’t really rule that option out.

“Are you planning to stand out here all day surveying the parking lot or would you like to come inside?”

Emma turned at the sound of the familiar voice to find Killian lingering in the doorway, leaning against the metal frame like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“How did you know I was out here?”

“Every human not only has a unique scent, but also a unique sound. It’s not just your heartbeat, it’s the way the blood moves around your body. The sounds made by your digestive systems, how frequently you blink and swallow, and breathe. It all adds up to this beautifully unique symphony that only ever belongs to you. I heard you the moment I killed my car engine this morning.”

Emma rolled her eyes a little at his dramatics. He’d likely been waiting by a window all day, just to see if she’d actually bother showing up.

“So… are you coming in?” he eventually asked, when all she’d done was stare at him since he’d started speaking.

“Why, are you getting cold?”

Emma knew he must be. The guy was only wearing a pair of light slacks, an off-grey colored t-shirt, and a black leather jacket that he hadn’t even bothered to zip up. She had on three layers of clothing and her nipples were still hard enough to cut glass.

“I haven’t felt the cold in centuries,” he chuckled, before turning to head back inside. “But if you stay out here all day, you’ll hold up the rest of the class.”

“Rest of the class,” she snorted, but Emma still found herself following Killian into the building and down the corridors until he came to the door that had a paper sign taped to the front of it reading _RESERVED FOR DRACCORP._

“Seriously? Do people not question this shit?” she asked.

“Why would they? We pay well and we’re very well connected.”

“DracCorp. isn’t exactly subtle.”

“It’s not supposed to be,” he told her. “We’re not actively hiding what we are. If we were, do you honestly think there would be missionaries soliciting for new members on behalf of Dracula?”

“I suppose not,” she reluctantly agreed, and once again, Emma couldn’t believe that she was agreeing with a man who claimed to be a vampire.

“Ready?” he asked, as his hand hovered over the door handle.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Emma wasn’t entirely sure what she thought she’d see when Killian opened that door, but she knew the room wouldn’t be empty. The guy was far too annoyingly cocky for that!

The small conference room had already been arranged to look like plenty of other workshops Emma had attended over her adult life. Around twenty small desks had been set out to face a much larger one at the head of the room, behind which stood a projector screen and a whiteboard with a simple greeting written across it:

_Welcome to DracCorp’s_   
_So, You Want to be a Vampire_   
_Workshop._

After taking in the words on the board, Emma turned to survey the rest of the people in the room. To her surprise, all but one of the desks had already been filled, and every individual had turned to stare in her direction the moment she’d walked through the door.

“Ah, you must be Miss Swan,” someone called from the front of the room.

Emma’s head spun around so fast she was sure she’d pulled something at the sound of the new voice. “I’m William Smee, and I’m here to talk you through life as a vampire. Please, come and join us.”

Emma turned back to look at Killian, who was now casually lounging against the wall with his left leg bent up so that his foot was pressed flat against it. The ‘vampire’ gave her an encouraging nod and Emma sighed as she made her way through the line of desks to take a seat at the only free one. She probably stomped her way there a little too loudly, but nobody called her out on it.

“I’m sure you all have plenty of questions,” Smee began, as he turned to address the class as a whole. “Throughout the day, this workshop aims to address all of those. As you can imagine, over the decades we’ve been asked pretty much anything that might currently be on your mind, and with this workshop, we aim to answer more than you could ever dream up.” There was a small chuckle from the other people in the room and Emma turned her attention to the man sitting next to her, just to see how genuine he was being. Killian might have had her lie-detector fooled, but she didn’t think his paid lackeys would.

“If by some miracle you still have questions left at the end of the day, I’ll be happy to answer them for you. But we ask that you please wait until then to put them to the class, just so that we don’t have to change up our program of activities in order to answer what might be on your mind.”

The group nodded their heads to show that they’d understood Smee’s request, and Emma picked up the pencil at the edge of her desk to roll it between her fingers. The black lacquer had been stamped with the DracCorp. name in orange ink, and once again she found herself wondering just how much money Killian had sunk into his elaborate scheme.

Clearly, the guy was not only crazy but also insanely rich. (And rather handsome too, her brain tacked on, before she could stop it from doing so.)

“Now, let’s start with perhaps the most frequently asked question we get, shall we?” Smee clicked a button he’d apparently been holding in his palm all along, as the projector screen flickered to life, displaying the first in what Emma knew was going to be an incredibly long slide show. What is a vampire? was printed across the center of the screen, in Comic Sans.

* * *

“So, what do you think?” Killian asked, as he followed Emma from the conference room after Smee had declared it was time for a lunch break.

So far that morning, Emma had been through a long and frankly boring explanation about what a vampire was, what a vampire most certainly was not (a bat!), and then a wonderful team-building exercise where they were paired up to practice explaining what they had learned to each other, without using hurtful stereotypes. Emma had been paired with Neal, the guy sitting to her left. And he was far too keen and eager for her liking.

“I still think you’re full of shit,” she answered, not bothering to look back over her shoulder.

“So… none of that rang as true for you? None of that seemed at all plausible to you, Emma?”

“Nope. Because d’ya know what, Killian?” She whirled around to face the man standing just a few steps behind her as she said, “Vampires aren’t real. Nothing you say will _ever_ change that fact.”

“We’ll see,” he replied cryptically, before nodding for her to carry on moving.

Emma let out a huff of frustration at his words but turned back around to head for the restaurant on site. It had been hours since she’d eaten, and she knew that she would need some kind of comfort food to get through the rest of the day without killing someone.

Killian seemed more than happy to follow Emma there, taking a place opposite her at the table she perused a menu. But he only asked for a coffee when a waitress came over to take their order.

“You do know that it’s rude to stare, right?” Emma threw at him, as she made a start on the plate of food that was set down in front of her, while Killian sipped at his coffee.

“Is it? You didn’t seem to mind too much when it was my ass you were staring at,” he pointed out, and Emma dropped the fork she had been holding. “Oh, sorry… did you think I hadn’t noticed that?”

Emma hadn’t thought he’d seen it.

At one point during their morning session, Killian had stepped in to help when the woman sitting closest to him had ‘accidentally’ dropped her pencil on the floor. She’d been doing it to get a good look at his ass when he bent over to pick it up, and Emma had decided to indulge herself at that moment too. After all, it wasn’t like anything else that had happened that day had been holding her interest.

“I wasn’t staring at your ass,” she lied. “I was… admiring the fit of your pants.”

“Please… you don’t even have to be a vampire to see how bad that excuse is.”

Emma bit down on her lip to stop herself from saying something about the whole vampire thing again, but didn’t even get the chance to roll her eyes. Killian’s hand was suddenly right in front of her face, his fingers gently tugging her lip free.

“Don’t,” he chided, his eyes burning with a dark intensity that was equal parts hunger and desire. Emma wasn’t sure if she wanted to jump him at that moment or run away from him. “We might not go around biting whoever the hell we want, but that doesn’t mean that you should tempt fate, Emma.”

“Wha… what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you have no idea just how much I want you, or in what ways. So let’s not break any skin today, shall we?”

Emma could barely think straight at that moment. The feel of his cool fingers against her lips was intoxicating in a way she’d never experienced before. And somewhere, in the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind, a part of her believed his warning. A part of her truly believed that he wanted her – in whatever way he could get her.

The tension between the two of them shattered the instant a shadow fell across Emma’s plate, and both she and Killian turned in the direction of the newcomer.

“Killian, it’s so good to see you again,” Smee greeted, as he held out a hand for the guy to take. Killian didn’t hesitate to clasp it in his own, but instead of the firm shake Emma had been expecting, the guy rose gracefully to his feet to embrace the portly teacher. “Nobody told me that you’d be joining us today.”

“It was a last-minute decision,” Killian replied, and Emma’s internal lie-detector chose that moment to sound a blaring siren with flashing red lights as it chanted _LIE! LIE! LIE!_

The suddenness of the alarm hit her like a ton of bricks, and Emma realized with a start that her lie-detector _did_ work on him. This was just the first time that Killian had told a lie in her presence.

“Emma?”

“Yeah,” she asked, turning her attention back to the two men standing beside her table.

“I asked how you were enjoying the workshop,” Smee repeated, as he frowned down at her in concern.

“Oh, um… it’s great,” she lied. “Very informative.”

Smee nodded his head but didn’t look like he truly believed anything she’d said. “Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy your lunch. Make sure you try the frozen yogurt before you come back,” he told her. “That stuff is divine.”

Smee left before Emma could say anything else, and she turned a bemused look on the other man who had once again taken a seat opposite her at the table.

“He’s not wrong,” Killian argued. “The frozen yogurt here is amazing.”

* * *

When Emma made it back to the conference room after lunch, she was a little surprised to find that the layout had been completely transformed. Instead of projectors and whiteboards, there was now a large raised platform running the length of the wall, with a black curtain hanging behind it. The desks had also vanished, and in their place were now five rows of chairs facing the stage.

Emma flicked a glance over her shoulder to where Killian had been following behind her, and he simply nodded his head at the nearest seat. The way she threw herself down into it with a huff was eerily reminiscent of her days in high school, but she was still annoyed that instead of finding a weakness in his prank that day, all she’d managed to find was a shit ton of unresolved sexual tension between the two of them.

Because of course the guy she was attracted to was a certifiably crazy millionaire who thought he was a vampire. He’d probably try biting her during sex, if she ever let him get that far… not that biting during sex was always a bad thing…

“You might wanna think about something else,” came a cool whisper just beside her ear. “There are six other vampires in this room who can smell _that_ right now.”

Emma turned wide eyes Killian’s way, but he simply shrugged off her glare before returning to his usual position, lounging against the wall.

_God, why did he have to look so good doing that?_

A quirk of his brow had Emma turning away from the so-called vampire and instead focusing on the stage, where six chairs had suddenly appeared, spaced out evenly across it.

“Okay, Guys,” Smee declared, as he made his way up into the middle of the platform to address the room. “I hope you all had a good lunch break. Did anyone try the frozen yogurt?” When nobody seemed to indicate that they had, the portly guy deflated a little before waving away his own sadness. “Never mind. There’s always next time. Anyway, now that we’ve covered the basics such as what a vampire actually is and dispelled some of those more hurtful stereotypes about our kind, it’s time to discuss the pros and cons of making this change to your life. And what better way to do that than to ask some of our own to come and tell you why they decided to go ahead with the transition? So please, give a warm welcome to your vampire panel.”

There was hearty applause from the rest of the attendees as a group of five people made their way out onto the stage, waving like they thought they were at the premiere of some Oscar-winning movie. But it was the redhead at the end of the group that caught Emma’s eyes.

“Oh, come on!” she exploded, whirling on a rather innocent-looking Killian, who was standing off to one side, eyeing her suspiciously.

The applause died off as everyone turned to see who was causing all of the fuss, and when they did, a small voice from the front of the room called out, “Oh, hey Emma. I can’t believe they managed to convince you to come here.”

“Are you in on all of this? What’s he paying you?” she demanded, as she stood from her seat and began pacing towards the stage.

“Emma, I don’t –“

“Shut up,” she barked over her shoulder at Killian, as she kept her eyes focused on the familiar face of the woman standing in front of her. “Or was this all your idea, Zelena? Some epic prank on Emma? Does everyone at work know? Are they all involved somehow?”

“Nobody else at work knows anything,” Zelena whispered. “I don’t really feel the need to broadcast what I am to them. It doesn’t affect my ability to do my job. And all those negative stereotypes about our kind would just make everyone in the department uneasy.”

Emma spun around on her heels so fast that Killian took a step away from the wall, just in case she fell. But she remained remarkably steady on her feet as she advanced on him. “Okay. That’s it. I’m done!” she declared. “I’ve played your game long enough but messing with my job is out of line.”

“I haven’t messed with your job.”

“Then what the fuck is _she_ doing here?” Emma asked, pointing an accusatory finger in Zelena’s direction.

“Zelena’s one of our kind. She was –”

“Stop it, Killian! Just stop it!” she exploded. “Drop the act now. It’s over.”

“This isn’t an act, Emma. Everything I’ve told you has been the truth. And I know you know that. I know you sensed my lie earlier in the restaurant, and I know that you’re more attuned to these things than others of your kind. So tell me, Emma… am I lying to you right now?”

He cocked his head at her expectantly and no matter how hard she tried to find that falsehood inside of him, there was nothing there to be seen. So instead of saying anything, Emma simply clenched her hands into fists by her sides and stormed out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Emma's look here is based on Emma's look in 1x13 'What Happened To Frederick" and Killian's is based on the shoot Colin did for NKD magazine in 2017. **


	4. Part IV

“Emma, wait.”

“Why? So you can humiliate me some more?” she yelled, not even bothering to turn around and face him.

“It’s not like that,” Killian protested.

Emma stopped and turned so suddenly that he almost crashed straight into her, which was pretty funny considering he claimed to be an almighty, superior vampire.

“Bringing my co-worker in today crossed the line, Killian. I’m done. I’m not playing this game anymore. I don’t _ever_ want to see you in my life again, do you understand me?”

She turned on her heels without giving him a chance to reply, but before she could even take a step towards the door, Killian was suddenly in front of her with both of his hands gripping her shoulders firmly.

Emma’s eyes widened in shock as she tried desperately to find a rational explanation for what had just happened.

“This isn’t a game, Emma. I didn’t know Zelena was going to be here. Hell, I didn’t even know that she worked with you. She can tell you that herself. I’m not trying to trick you here. I’m just trying to give you all the information you need to make an informed decision about this.”

“Vampires aren’t real!” she snapped out, because she was getting seriously pissed off now.

“Yes, we are! How else can you explain how fast I just moved?”

“It was a trick of the light.”

“If you truly believe that, then you’re nowhere near as smart as I first believed you to be.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Emma, that _I’m_ tired of playing this game with _you_ now. I’m tired of letting you continue to pretend that this isn’t real. That it’s all some kind of elaborate hoax I’ve concocted just to catch you out. Because deep down, you know it’s not. You know that I’m telling the truth. You just don’t want to admit that to yourself because you’re scared.”

“Pfft. I’m not scared of you.”

“I don’t think you’re scared of me, no. But you’re scared of what I’m offering you,” Killian reasoned. “You’re scared of opening your mind and accepting that the world just might be a little bigger than you thought it was. And more than that, I think you’re scared that this is all too good to be true.”

“Oh, _please!_ Nothing you’ve told me yet has even remotely convinced me to consider immortality,” she lied.

“Well, that’s because you didn’t finish the workshop,” Killian quipped, dropping his hands from her shoulders when he sensed that she was no longer ready to run. “What’s not to love about immortality? Or enhanced senses?”

“Okay, the immortality I kinda get,” she conceded, because who didn’t want to live forever? “But the enhanced senses thing? Surely that’s more of a burden than a blessing? Like, if you actually have heightened senses, aren’t you constantly smelling disgusting scents or hearing shit you’d rather not hear?”

“As with most things in life, there are some drawbacks,” Killian reluctantly admitted. “The couple staying on the third floor of this hotel are into some _very_ kinky stuff, given the sounds they’re making right now.” He cringed a little at whatever it was that he thought he could hear, before his expression evened out again. “But I can tune that out if I focus on other things. The songs the birds sing as they fly back and forth across the sky. The laughter of kids at the park a few miles away. Whenever someone turns onto the street and starts singing in their car. All of those good sounds combine into this beautiful symphony of life that far outweighs the slightly awkward things we catch.”

“As for our other senses,” he added, taking another small step forward. “Our sense of touch is heightened.” Killian reached out to gently run the tip of one finger down the arm of her black leather jacket. “There’s a slight nick in the leather here,” he told her, as he paused in one spot before continuing down to the faux-fur lining the cuffs. “There are a few snags and tangles here. I can feel them, even though to you, this probably still feels as soft as the day you bought it.” His thumb came up to rub gently at the fabric of Emma’s jacket, and it took her a moment to realize that he was attempting to work out those tangles for her.

“Now imagine all of that, applied to situations where you _want_ to feel. Think about the most incredible orgasm that you’ve ever had,” he continued, his voice dropping into what could only be described as a deep purr. “And then imagine how that would feel when everything was heightened to an almost impossible level. How you’d beg your partner to stop because the pleasure was just _so much_ it was bordering on painful.”

Emma inhaled sharply as she tried not to think about the mental images he was busy creating for her. Most of her best orgasms had been at her own hand, thanks to her magic wand. But that pool of desire at the bottom of her gut was telling her that sex with Killian would certainly not be disappointing.

Emma knew that she must be blushing, as her cheeks had heated to an almost unbearable level and the walls of the corridor suddenly seemed far too close. But when Killian leaned in until his nose was just millimeters away from that sensitive skin behind her ear, and then dragged it painstakingly slowly down to her collarbone, her knees almost gave out.

“You have no idea just how complex a human’s scent can be. Your shampoo is a citrus fragrance. Lemon, lime, and grapefruit. But the scents are artificially created. They’re not sharp enough to be the real deal.”

Emma gasped a little at his words but she wasn’t sure if it was because of how right his guess had been, or because of how close he was standing to her.

“You’re wearing Coco Mademoiselle perfume, but it’s all wrong for you. It clashes with your shampoo and your natural fragrance. I suspect that someone in Sephora told you that it was perfect for you because of the price they charge, but they have no idea what they’re talking about. It’s an Oriental scent, not a fruity, fresh, crisp citrus. You should try Dolce & Gabbana’s Light Blue instead.”

Killian paused for a moment as he took another deep breath in, letting his eyes fall shut as he did, and Emma’s heart kicked up another gear. What he was doing absolutely should not be as arousing as it was.

“The shirt and jeans you’re wearing were clean when you put them on this morning, but you washed your shirt a few weeks before your jeans. The scent of your laundry powder is slightly more faded there. And while your bra isn’t dirty, it’s also not freshly laundered. The smell of your laundry powder has been almost entirely masked by your own scent. I’m gonna guess it’s your favorite,” he added cheekily, and Emma found herself nodding, dumbstruck by just how accurate his guesses had been.

There was absolutely no way he could have known all of that about her - unless he was some kind of psychotic stalker.

“And you know the best thing about heightened senses?” he added cockily, taking another small step forward. “I can hear your heart racing in your chest. I can see the blood rushing faster through your veins and the way it colors your skin so beautifully. And if all of that wasn’t enough to tell me just how much you’re enjoying this moment, I can _smell_ your arousal, Emma. I can taste it every time I lick my lips. And it’s fucking intoxicating.”

Emma moved before she’d really permitted herself to do so. Her hand lurched out to grab a fistful of the shirt he was wearing as she tugged his lips down to meet hers.

Killian didn’t seem at all surprised by her actions. His mouth moved confidently against her own as his hands came up to wrap around her waist, pulling her body into his. But when Emma’s tongue tentatively brushed against his own, he seemed to hesitate for just a moment.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, as he pulled back panting heavily.

“I just um… I…” Killian raised his eyes to meet hers and Emma watched as they seemed to darken further until the beautiful azure hue she’s gotten used to was completely gone, and in its place was just hunger and desire. “Oh, fuck it,” he cursed, reaching for her again.

This time, Killian was the aggressor. He brought one of his hands up to tangle through Emma’s hair and used his grip there to tilt her head so that he could deepen their kiss, as he backed her into the wall behind them.

Emma couldn’t seem to get enough of him. She arched into his touch, trying to get closer as her hands slid down his back. She could feel the muscles there flex with every move he made as her fingers skimmed further down to his ass, to pull his hips into hers.

The sound of a throat clearing from somewhere behind them had Killian reluctantly pulling away. His lips seemed to be the last part of his body to leave hers before he finally turned to face their intruder.

“That’s not really appropriate behavior for the hallway, is it?” an old woman snapped at them, and Emma hung her head in shame. “I’d suggest booking a room if you want to continue _that_, or I’ll have to call the police.”

“Of course, Ma’am,” Killian told her, as Emma blurted out, “I already have one!”

He turned to her with a brow cocked in surprise and asked, “Really?” as the old woman behind them stormed off in a huff.

“Yeah. You um… do you wanna come up?” Emma wasn’t sure why she was suddenly so nervous. She’d just had her hands on the man’s very toned backside. She knew where things had been headed then and it was no different to where they were going now. But inviting Killian up to her room made everything feel more real.

“If you want me too,” he drawled, stepping back into her space. He leaned forward and Emma was certain that he was going to kiss her again, but instead, he used the tip of his nose to draw another line from behind her ear and down her neck. It took her a moment to realize that he wasn’t teasing her, he was _smelling_ her.

When Killian held out his hand in silent offering, Emma slipped her palm into his before tugging him in the direction of the bank of elevators that were closest to her suite.

The ride up to her floor was quite possibly the most painfully awkward of her entire life. Killian kept her hand in his own, his thumb sweeping back and forth over her knuckles as he held the rest of his body rigidly still. There were three other people inside the small carriage and Emma wondered if they could tell how badly her body ached for the man standing beside her. Every now and then, one of them would make eye-contact with her in the reflection of the mirrored doors. But the stranger would look away far too quickly for Emma to work out what they could be thinking.

When the elevator finally rocked to a stop on her floor, Emma wasn’t sure which one of them was more eager to escape its confines and the suffocating tension inside of it.

“Jesus, that was the longest forty-seven seconds of my entire life,” Killian mumbled, backing her into the nearest wall as he leaned in to kiss her again.

Emma’s hands came up to rest on his shoulders as she briefly remembered that they were supposed to be heading for her room. But the way he sucked softly on her bottom lip had her forgetting all about where they were supposed to be, and focusing on how right his body felt pressed against her own.

Killian must have had more self-control than she did, because he pulled away just before she could deepen the kiss, making sure to leave space between their bodies to avoid further temptation. “We uh… down here,” he said, reaching for her hand again to lead her along the corridor and towards her room.

“How did you know this was mine?” Emma asked, when he stopped them in front of her door and then moved to stand behind her. Killian pulled aside her sweater to press suckling kisses down the side of her neck as Emma fumbled in her pocket for her key card.

“It smells of you,” was all he said, before biting down gently on the soft skin that covered the vein in her neck.

Emma hadn’t realized that biting was a kink of hers until that moment, when she released a shamefully loud moan of desire at the way his teeth felt against her skin.

Killian chuckled darkly before reaching out to slide her key card into the lock and then pressed down on the door handle. “You’re perfect, Emma Swan. Absolutely perfect,” he told her, dropping his hands to her hips to guide her inside.

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Killian’s hands began pushing at Emma’s jacket. When the fabric fell free from her arms she began working at the leather covering his shoulders. One of Killian’s hands came up to tangle in Emma’s hair, giving him more control over their kiss as he used it to tilt her head further back. The other slipped down to her waist and he began tugging the soft grey cashmere of her sweater up her body.

“Jesus Christ,” he growled in frustration, wrenching his lips away from hers as his fingers found soft cotton instead of bare skin. “How many layers are you wearing?”

“It’s Boston… in December,” Emma defended, still a little dizzy from the intoxicating feeling of his tongue gliding against her own.

Killian seemed to contemplate his options for a moment before a wicked gleam began to grow behind his eyes. “How attached are you to these items of clothing?”

Emma would later blame her libido for her response of, “Not overly.” Because while a small part of her brain had grasped what he intended to do the moment she’d seen that gleam forming, the rest of it took a while to catch up.

The sound of fabric tearing was far more arousing than it should have been, given how much Emma’s sweater had cost her. But as she looked down at herself, the cashmere and cotton of her clothing ripped clean in half, all she could think about was shrugging it off as fast as possible so that Killian might _finally_ touch her again, rather than the three hundred dollars of clothing she’d now have to throw away.

Emma wasn’t entirely sure when Killian’s own shirt came off. She was certain that he’d still been wearing it when he pulled her back in for another searing kiss, but he’d barely lifted his lips from her skin in the time it took him to back her the rest of the way across the room. And when he finally pressed her down onto the mattress of her bed, she’d moaned with delight as she slid her hands down his suddenly bare back to grip tightly at his still-covered ass.

Killian shifted his weight onto his left arm but still managed to keep a steady pace with his hips. He was thrusting against Emma in exactly the right place to have her gasping in pleasure with every move that he made, as his free hand made quick work of her belt buckle and the button on her jeans.

The thrusting ceased so abruptly that Emma was shocked back to reality and her eyes sprang open. She was just about to complain that he had stopped too soon, but she hadn’t even opened her mouth when she felt the cool air of the room against her bare legs, and the roughness of Killian’s khakis against her thighs.

“How did you do that?” Emma gasped out.

“Vampire,” was all he said, dipping his head again to start trailing kisses over her collarbone and down her chest.

Emma was far too lost in the pleasure he was bringing her to argue with him again. So instead, she let her eyes flutter shut as she tangled one of her hands in his hair and brought the other up to grip at the headboard. The sound of fabric tearing barely registered with her because suddenly there was a cool, gentle pressure where she ached the most, and Emma’s back arched away from the bed as she released a satisfied moan.

It didn’t take long for her to realize that being with Killian would well and truly ruin her for every other man she met. He was almost brutally efficient in the way he brought her to her first climax, finding places to suck and rub that she hadn’t ever found herself, as he drove her higher and higher and higher. At one point, Emma had worried that the pleasure would all be too much, and she’d simply go insane before he finally gave her the release that she’d never needed so badly before in her life.

And when it came, it hit her with the force of a sledgehammer. Her muscles seized and her vision blurred as she arched into his touch and cried an almost pained, “_Killian!_” before finally dropping back down to the bed and into her own body once again.

Emma hadn’t truly believed in out-of-body experiences until that very moment – and she must have been drifting for a while, as when she finally came back to herself, Killian Jones was fully naked and stretched out beside her, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“Was that good for you, Love?”

“Eh, it wasn’t too bad,” she lied, because the guy already had an enormous ego. He didn’t need her to stroke it for him.

Killian rolled onto his side to face her and offered Emma a grin that said he could see right through her bullshit. “I rocked your world, didn’t I?” he teased.

“You know that humility is really sexy, right?”

“And do you know what else is really sexy?” Killian asked, pulling himself in closer until his body was once again hovering over hers. Emma widened her legs to make room for him and Killian’s smirk grew. “Being with someone who _really_ knows what they’re doing.” His hips jerked forward at his words and even without him inside of her, Emma moaned loudly at the way he felt, rubbing against her intimately.

“Stop gloating and fuck me,” she ordered. Her fingers tangled in the back of his hair and she pulled his lips down to hers so that she could finally shut him up.

Killian was powerless to refuse such a direct command from a beautiful and naked woman.


	5. Part V

Emma found herself stretched out across Killian’s chest when awareness slowly began returning to her. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten there. Emma Swan was not the kind of woman to stick around and cuddle after sex (even if it was the most mind-blowing sex of her entire life). But she couldn’t seem to find the energy to pull herself away from Killian’s embrace. There was something so tender about the way his fingers were running through her hair that was so completely at odds with the powerful and forceful way he’d thrust himself inside of her. It left her feeling sated in a way that sex had never managed to achieve before.

“So… did I rock your world again?” he asked, turning his head down to catch her eyes.

Emma smothered her chuckles in his chest as the heat began climbing her cheeks once more. She was pretty sure that Killian already knew the answer to his question. By her third orgasm, her throat had started drying out from all of her screams, and Emma now felt well and truly boneless. No man had _ever_ made her come so often and so intensely in one night.

“Yes,” she eventually mumbled, because there was no use in denying it. Emma’s body had already betrayed that secret. “But you already knew that.”

Killian chuckled a little at her words and pulled her in closer, so that her head was resting over his heart, as he brushed a soft kiss to her hair. Another comfortable silence settled between the two of them and for a moment, Emma felt content in a way that she’d never experienced before.

But as the blood rushing through her ears finally began to calm, along with her pounding heart rate, an alarm bell started to ring in the back of her mind.

Something was wrong.

_Very wrong._

“What is it?” Killian asked, tensing a little as he sensed the nervous energy that was beginning to flood her system.

It took Emma a moment longer to realize what was wrong with the situation she’d found herself in. Or, more precisely, what was missing from it.

“Your heart,” she stated, pushing herself up into a sitting position as she clutched the bedsheet to her bare chest. “I can’t hear your heart beating.”

“My heart hasn’t beat for several centuries now, Emma.”

Killian spoke the words so calmly that Emma couldn’t help but feel a little envious of him - because _she’d_ never felt more anxious in her entire life.

“No! No, no, no, no, no. You can’t… you’re not… _vampires aren’t real_!” she protested fiercely, even though she had no other logical explanation for his lack of a heartbeat.

“Yes, we are. You know that, Emma. Trust your instincts and stop fighting this. I’m a vampire. And I’d really like for you to consider becoming one too.”

Emma sat back on her ass with a slight bounce, all thought of modesty gone as her hands dropped to her sides and the sheet slipped down her chest. To Killian’s credit, his eyes didn’t stray from her face as he waited patiently for her to speak again.

_He was right!_

Somewhere deep down inside, a part of Emma had always believed what he’d said. It was why she’d invited him into her home to begin with. Every word he’d spoken that night had rung with a kind of genuine sincerity that she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. It was the much larger and far more rational part of her brain that had been trying to deny the truth for so long. A truth that she could no longer ignore, now that her ear had been pressed tightly against the space where Killian’s heart should have been beating.

“You’re a vampire,” she whispered, and Killian simply nodded his head in agreement. He knew it was more for her benefit than his own, and he wanted to do whatever he could to reassure her, now that she _finally_ seemed to believe him. “You’re a vampire. I… oh God, I just had sex with a vampire! Unprotected sex with a vampire! Does this make me a necrophiliac? Am I gonna end up pregnant with some weird vampire-human hybrid baby?”

Killian must have sensed that she was close to a panic attack as he moved forward to take both of her hands into his own, and – oh God, they were cold. His skin was so cold compared to her own. How had she never noticed that before? A part of him had literally just been inside of her body and she hadn’t noticed that his skin was a few degrees cooler than her own.

“I’m a vampire, Emma. I’m not a corpse,” he chuckled. “Having sex with me does not make you a necrophiliac.”

“But I could be pregnant, right?” she worried, as her heart rate kicked up a notch. “Oh God, I’m gonna end up drinking blood through a straw, like Bella did in Twilight, aren’t I?”

Killian wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to laugh at her absurd comment, or if he should be offended that Emma thought he’d not only take such a great risk with her life, but that he’d also sparkle in direct sunlight.

“Okay, first of all, Twilight got a few things right but the pregnancy and the sparkling shit is _all_ wrong,” he began, as his thumb rubbed soft patterns into the back of her hand to help her relax. “Vampires cannot conceive children, Emma. It’s actually quite a large part of the workshop that you’re currently missing out on. It’s one of the biggest drawbacks to this lifestyle. Dracula believes it’s a way to preserve the balance. We live forever. If vampires could procreate, the planet would eventually be overrun with vampire children and there wouldn’t be enough humans to feed us all. It’s uh… it’s why so many people end up refusing the lifestyle. They want to start a family with a loved one and becoming a vampire won’t allow them to do so. At least, not in the traditional sense.”

Killian looked like he felt the information he’d just dropped on Emma was going to be what finally pushed her away from him. And while she would definitely need to consider his revelation fully at some point in the future, Emma’s high school biology lessons were choosing that moment to make their comeback and were demanding far more attention than whether or not she ever wanted children of her own.

“How uh… how do you even get it up?” she blurted out.

The vampire sitting beside her blinked rapidly for a moment, almost like he was using the action to clear his mind, before he shook his head fondly and answered her question. “The reason vampires drink human blood is because it’s the best and most effective way to deliver everything our body needs. Human blood contains _everything_ that is essential for us to survive. Nothing is wasted when we consume it, unlike with your food and drink. Our bodies use it all. So, do you remember how I told you that vampires were more advanced than your average human?”

Emma nodded her head, but she wasn’t sure how much of Killian’s explanation she’d end up being able to recall in the future. Her brain was still stuck on the whole vampires-are-real thing. And they don’t sparkle in the sunlight.

“Well, our bodies are more biologically advanced too. We don’t rely on our heart to pump nutrient-enriched blood around our body. We’re able to absorb whatever is needed whenever it’s needed. That’s what makes us faster and stronger. It’s why our senses are heightened. We’ve essentially cut out the weakest part of the human system and by doing so, we’re a more biologically advanced species.”

“So… you’re saying that you can get a boner because your body stores blood just on the off-chance that you could end up aroused?”

“Not quite. In a human, blood flow is needed to trigger the pressure in the corpora cavernosa, which is what causes the penis to expand and become erect. But vampires don’t need blood flow to do that. My sexual arousal triggers the pressure in the corpora cavernosa. No blood flow is necessary. It also makes for far improved recovery times,” he teased, wiggling his brows at her impishly.

But the impact was completely lost on Emma. His use of the word penis while they were both naked and sharing a bed, had killed any iota of desire in her body.

“So… vampires don’t require a heart because they don’t need a constant flow of blood?” she asked, just to check that she was understanding what he was trying to explain to her.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“And that’s also why you can basically get it up anywhere at any time?”

Killian hesitated for a moment, throwing answers for Emma’s question back and forth inside of his mind before he said, “Essentially. We’re um… we’re kinda like jellyfish. They don’t have a heart either. It’s a weakness in them and over time, they’ve evolved to a stage where they don’t need one. And yet, they still exist. You don’t doubt their presence in this world.”

“Well, yeah… people have _seen_ jellyfish,” she argued.

“And people have _seen_ vampires too. They just don’t always know it.”

“Zelena.”

“Aye, Zelena. The guy on reception downstairs. There’s a couple staying on the fifth floor too. I’m sure there’s plenty more that you’ve encountered over your lifetime, Emma. They just prefer to get on with their own lives quietly.”

“But you don’t,” she challenged.

“On the contrary, I’ve found life to be much simpler when those around me don’t know what I am. It causes far less panic and misunderstanding.”

“So… why were you out soliciting for Dracula on Halloween?”

“Because it’s Halloween,” he explained, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “I can hide behind the holiday. Those that don’t believe me will think I lost a bet, or that I was playing a practical joke. Like you did. And those that do believe me would have believed what I was saying no matter what time of the year I’d knocked on their door. It’s the perfect recruitment window.”

_Of course it was!_

Emma had been one of those people who’d assumed it was an elaborate joke, after all. And she was sure there were some kind of vampire fetishists out there who would think being recruited on Halloween made them even more special. Killian had well and truly perfected the art of his craft.

The two of them lapsed into silence for a moment as Emma tried to process everything that had just happened. Killian wanted to give her the time she needed to work out how she was feeling, in the hopes that she wouldn’t end up running from him. But eventually, the silence became too much for him to take, and he hesitantly asked, “So, what do you think?”

“About what?” So much had happened that day, Emma felt like she needed to rethink every belief she’d ever held.

“Would you like to become a vampire, Emma? Would you um… would you maybe consider spending some of eternity with me?”

Killian looked strangely vulnerable as he lifted his head to meet her eyes. Although it took her a while to spot it, Emma eventually saw what he wasn’t even trying to hide. Sometime over the last two months, while they’d been playing this game and dancing around each other, Killian had developed feelings for her.

And Emma _really_ wasn’t sure where to begin processing that information.

“I um… I don’t know,” she replied honestly, because while she couldn’t give him an answer at that moment, he deserved to hear the truth. “I think… I think I just need some time, Killian. Can you uh… can you give me that? I need some time to think about everything that you’ve said today before I can give you an answer.”

“I can do that. I have all the time in the world, after all.” His little quip only seemed to make the atmosphere in the room worse, as Emma noticed that unlike before, the humor behind his words didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll uh… I know this has been a lot to take in today, so I’ll go,” he told her. And before she really knew what was happening, Killian was off the bed and standing fully dressed at the end of it.

Now that she had an explanation for his speed, it was a lot less scary than it had been before… and oddly arousing.

Killian’s nostrils flared slightly and Emma bit down on her lip to try and stifle the heat building inside of her at his actions. She didn’t want to send him the wrong message after begging him to give her some time. Killian didn’t deserve to be messed around like that after everything that she’d already put him through. But she couldn’t help how attracted she was to him. To _every_ part of him.

Thankfully, the vampire seemed to shake off whatever it was he could sense, as he took a step closer to the bed and said, “You know how to reach me when you’re ready to talk. Take care of yourself, Emma.”

When he leaned down to press his cool lips to her forehead, Emma’s eyes fluttered shut. She felt the briefest moment of pressure just above her left brow before it was gone again, and when she opened her eyes, so was Killian.


	6. Part VI

“Have you finished with those reports yet, Emma?”

“Huh?” she asked, lifting her head to meet her supervisor, Kathryn’s, eyes.

“The quarterly reports. You said you’d have them done by the end of the day.”

“I know, and I will.”

“It’s four-thirty,” Kathryn pointed out, and Emma’s eyes flew down to the clock in the bottom corner of her screen.

“Fuck,” she whispered, before turning her attention back to the woman hovering in her doorway. “They’ll be done by the end of the day,” she promised. “Even if I have to stay here until midnight.”

“Okay, well… just make sure I get them before nine _am_,” her supervisor encouraged. Kathryn gave her a tense smile before deciding to leave Emma to her work.

But Emma had only gotten seven lines into the first report when she pushed away from her desk with a sigh. It had been three weeks since she’d last seen Killian at the workshop in Boston, and he hadn’t contacted her at all during that time. She’d tried to put any and all things vampire from her mind, but every day she’d find her thoughts slipping. Little things like wondering what it was he did with his time when he wasn’t trying to persuade humans to join the vampire race, or who he spent his time with. Sometimes she’d find herself wondering if he’d fucked any of the other potential recruits recently, but that would usually only result in her taking her anger out on whatever pages came from the printer. So she tried to halt those thoughts before they could fully develop.

No matter how hard she tried to ground herself in the present, Emma’s thoughts always ended up in the same place – wondering what eternity would be like as a vampire.

And with her deadline looming that day, she knew that she’d never be able to concentrate enough to finish her work without talking it through with someone. The only problem was that Emma wasn’t sure she was ready to reach out to Killian again, given how they’d parted the last time they’d seen each other. Which was how she found herself knocking on Zelena’s office door a few moments later.

“Come in,” the redhead called out, and Emma pushed down on the door handle. She’d barely gotten the damned thing open before the other woman asked, “What can I do for you, Emma?”

“How did you know it was me?”

Zelena finally lifted her eyes from her computer monitor to offer Emma a small conspiratorial smile as she said, “I could both smell and hear you coming.”

“Okay… that’s a little creepy,” Emma quipped, before she turned to close the office door behind her, giving them some privacy. “Do you have a moment to talk?”

“Of course. I assume it’s the workshop that you wish to speak about.”

“Yes. Well… not really. I just… why? Why did you decide to become a vampire?” she blurted out, dropping down heavily into the seat opposite Zelena’s desk.

“Because it seemed like a wonderful opportunity,” the other woman replied. When Emma’s eyes widened with her confusion, Zelena went on to explain, “Some people do it because they want immortality. Some do it because they want to stay young and beautiful forever. Some do it because they’re dying and this is the only way to save their lives. And some of us are just curious about what the future will hold. The thought of living through massive periods of change thrills me, Emma. _That’s_ why I did it.”

“And how much change have you seen?”

“Not much,” Zelena chuckled. “When we first met, I was still human. I’ve only been a vampire for a few years now. They asked me to join the workshop panels because they like to give new recruits a chance to speak with vampires who have various levels of experience in immortality. They feel like it creates the most diverse and accurate picture of our existence.”

“So… you chose immortality but decided to stay working at the marketing firm you were already employed with?”

“Why not?” Zelena asked. “I like my job and it pays well. When I get bored I can move on. But why rush to change when I don’t need to? I have all of eternity to explore different career paths if they appeal to me.”

Emma considered that reasoning for a moment before she nodded her agreement. She could kind of see the appeal in that. As she was growing up she’d had all these different ideas about what she wanted to do with her life when she left school. Most of them seemed unfeasible at the time, but eternity would give her a chance to gain some qualifications and try each of them out. Maybe she’d even find a true calling in life, like some of her old high-school friends claimed to have found with their careers on Facebook.

“And uh… what about your family?” she eventually asked. “Do they know the truth?”

“No,” Zelena replied honestly. “I didn’t see the point in worrying them. All I have left are my parents and they’re both frail. They’ll pass long before they realize that I’m not aging.” The female vampire allowed a loaded silence to sit between the two of them for a moment before she eventually asked, “Is that what’s holding you back? Are you worried about your family? Because DracCorp has -”

“No. No, I uh… I never knew my dad and my mom passed away when I was a teenager. I have friends that are as good as family, but if anything ever happened to me, they’d still have each other.”

“So what’s causing your hesitation?” Zelena wondered.

“I didn’t… I only went to that stupid workshop to call Killian out on his bullshit,” Emma exploded, standing from her seat to pace the length of the office. “I didn’t think vampires were real and now it just… it all seems so much, you know? Not only are they real but they want me to be one of them too. Where do I even begin to process all of this?”

“What did he do to finally convince you?” the redhead asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Emma mumbled, but her cheeks were already heating with her blush and of course, the vampire in the room could sense it… or smell it. Whatever.

“Oh!”

“It wasn’t like that. I mean, it didn’t _mean_ anything. He probably fucks every pretty woman he manages to sweet-talk into attending one of those workshops.”

“Admittedly, I don’t know him well but… I’ve never actually seen or heard of Killian attending one before,” Zelena argued, and Emma stopped her pacing to offer the other woman her full attention. “I mean, everyone who works for DracCorp knows of him. The man’s legendary when it comes to recruitment figures. Although, I think he’s probably one of the eldest on the team, so he’s got a few centuries worth of experience over everyone else. But once he gets the new recruits to sign up – his job’s usually done. Nobody I’ve spoken to has actually met him before and I know quite a few members of the different panels now.”

“What are you trying to say?” Emma asked, because Zelena couldn’t possibly be implying _that_. Could she?

“Just that maybe he has a bit of a soft spot for you, is all. And maybe you have one for him too.”

“_I do not_,” Emma protested, a little too furiously to be entirely believable.

“Really? So why would you waste time, money, and paid vacation days just to go to a vampire workshop if you didn’t _actually_ believe in vampires?”

“To call Killian’s bluff!”

“He got under your skin,” Zelena taunted. “And that’s why you’re here now, isn’t it? He’s _still_ under your skin and you’re confused because it’s making you consider a life you’d never even dreamed of before – and that’s terrifying you.”

“Jesus Christ, would you stop with the psycho-babble bullshit? I came here to see why you decided that ending your life to live forever was preferable to just living the life you had. Not to talk about Killian fucking Jones.”

“What makes you think I’m not living my life now that I’m a vampire?”

Emma was so confused by the sudden change in direction their conversation had taken, that she was pretty sure she’d end up with some kind of emotional whiplash by the time she left the office that evening.

“Huh?”

“I said, what makes you think I’m not living my life?” Zelena repeated. “If anything, becoming a vampire has made me live life to the fullest in a way that I never would have as a human. I’m not shackled by the simple fears I held before. Walking alone at night doesn’t scare me anymore. Parachute jumping is exhilarating instead of terrifying. I’m traveling more, I’m trying out new hobbies and new cuisines, and I can guarantee I wouldn’t have done any of that while I was mortal. Wanna know why? Because I no longer fear death or injury. I know I can go somewhere alone and not be scared of getting lost and dying in the woods – because as a vampire, I have perfect recollection of every move I make, so I’ll never get lost again. I’m not worried about people attacking me or breaking into my home because I’m faster and stronger than they are, and there’s nothing they can do to hurt me. I try new foods and drinks because I don’t have to worry about them making me sick if they don’t agree with me. If I don’t like a flavor, I simply never consume it again. I no longer feel the urge to gag or vomit it back up. I’m learning new skills because my brain can suddenly hold and process more information. Everything about my life is better as a vampire, so I’m damned well living it to the fullest. But maybe that’s what you’re really scared of,” she continued, her gaze suddenly turning thoughtful. “Killian’s opened your eyes to something new - to limitless possibilities. And you’re terrified of taking the chance to seize them all because you’ve never had a chance like this without some kind of strings attached before. You’re worried that once you sign on that dotted line, you’ll end up stuck with a life that you don’t enjoy and no way out of it, because someone tricked you into missing the catch in the whole deal.”

Emma stared at Zelena slack-jawed as she listened to everything the other woman had to say.

She was loath to admit it, but Zelena was right!

Ever since her mother had died, Emma had gotten used to knowing that when life gave you a gift, it would often take a heavy price in return. And immortality seemed like the biggest gift of all. She was worried that accepting it would mean paying a price bigger than she could ever imagine, and the thought of that terrified her.

“Do you want my advice?” Zelena asked.

Emma was tempted to say no, but she knew that Zelena was going to give it to her, regardless of what she said.

“Speak to Killian. Tell him how you feel. The only person who can make this decision for you is _you_, Emma. But he understands this life better than anyone else in the world. So he’ll understand your fears and reluctance far better than anyone else ever could.”

Emma left Zelena’s office that evening in a daze. While she hadn’t gotten what she’d expected from the female vampire, Zelena had certainly given her plenty to think about.

(Once she’d finished those fucking quarterly reports!)

* * *

Three days later, Emma had decided to reach out to Killian but hadn’t yet made that call. She’d come close on a couple of occasions. The day before she’d even hit dial on his number and then hung up before the phone could begin to ring. She just couldn’t seem to talk herself into giving the call a chance to connect, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

As much as she hated to admit it, Killian had been on her mind every day since he’d shown up on her doorstep Halloween night. And now that Zelena had suggested that maybe, _just maybe_, she’d been more than another potential recruit to him, Emma had been thinking about him even more.

When she sat down to eat every night, she would wonder what kinds of foods he preferred. Did he eat when he was alone or was that just something he did to put other humans at ease around him? How often did he eat actual food?

During binge watches of Stranger Things on Netflix, she’d wonder if vampires had Netflix and if they did, what did they watch on it? Did they like watching vampire movies and shows, just to see how absurdly the media portrayed them? Or did they prefer romance and comedy? (She hoped to God that he wasn’t the kind of guy who followed soap operas religiously.)

At night, she’d allow herself to wonder if vampires slept, and if they did, where did they sleep? The legends she’d read up on suggested that they either didn’t sleep at all, or they slept during the day in coffins. Emma knew that they were probably more of the ‘hurtful stereotypes,’ like the ones that Killian had already debunked. But he had said there were some kernels of truth buried in the fictitious legends. So maybe they just preferred the evening to the daytime?

And when she woke in the mornings, panting hard from dreams full of memories of their afternoon together, she’d allow herself just a moment to wonder if he thought about her as much as she thought about him.

It was five days after her meeting with Zelena when Emma finally took that chance to reach out to him.

The day had started just as all of her regular working days did. She’d woken up as soon as her alarm had sounded, taken a shower, dressed, and then headed to a small coffee shop just up the road from her office, to grab some breakfast and one of their infamous vanilla lattes.

The barista that had served her was a guy she’d seen working there many times before. But when he passed her drink over to her, Emma’s index finger had accidentally brushed against the side of his hand, and she’d realized with a start that despite the hot drink he was holding, his skin was ice-cold.

He was a vampire!

Her barista was a vampire and she’d never even questioned it before.

Emma thanked the guy for her drink and then hurried out of the building and straight to her office with her mind reeling. Just how many vampires were there in the world? How many had she crossed paths with and never known about? Were they the reason that Killian had targeted her home that night? Had they been feeding information back to him about her?

The moment she had her office door shut behind her, she began the process of starting up her computer before pulling her cellphone from her bag to tap out a furious message to the man in question.

_Have you been spying on me?_

Killian’s reply came through almost immediately, and Emma briefly wondered if he’d been waiting for her to get in touch with him, before her anger took over again.

**Why would I?**

_Because apparently I work with a vampire and my barista’s one too!_

The phone remained silent for a beat longer than it usually did, before it began to ring in Emma’s hand. She wasn’t at all surprised to see Killian’s name flashing on her screen, but she still hesitated for a moment before she accepted the call and then lifted the device to her ear.

“I’d wager that you’ve encountered more vampires in your lifetime than just those two - And myself, of course. Our numbers might be limited compared to humans but we’re still a fairly large group. And like Zelena, most of our kind just want to lead as normal of a life as possible,” Killian told her, his voice ringing out clearly across the line.

“Hello to you too,” Emma grumbled, and her anger flared brighter once more when Killian laughed on the other end of the call.

“Hello, Emma,” he finally said. “How have you been?”

“Are you sure you don’t already know the answer to that?” she snapped back.

Killian sighed heavily and for a brief moment, Emma felt a tinge of remorse at her words. So before he could say anything else, she asked the next question that had come to mind.

“Is that what you want? A normal life?”

“I’ve lived long enough now to know there’s no such thing as normal.”

Emma dropped down into her seat as she considered the implication of Killian’s words. He’d hinted before that he was much older than he looked, and Zelena had said pretty much the same thing. But how old was old to a vampire? And would it be rude to ask such a thing over the phone?

Emma hesitated for a few seconds, trying to find a way to phrase what she wanted to say next, before she finally gave up and asked the one question that seemed the most important at that moment.

“Can we meet again soon? I have some more questions for you.”

Killian didn’t seem at all thrown by what she’d said as he quickly assured her, “Of course. Just name the time and the place, and I’ll be there.”


	7. Part VII

“Trick or treat?”

Emma found herself snorting out a laugh as she pulled her door open wider to take in the person standing on the other side.

“You’re a couple of months too late,” she told him, stepping back and gesturing for him to enter her home.

“Or am I just a few months early?” Killian argued, making his way across the threshold and then through to the kitchen without her guidance.

When Emma had the front door shut again she followed behind the vampire, but once inside the room, she made a beeline for her coffee machine. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Killian stripped off his black pea coat and took a seat in the same chair he’d occupied the last time he’d visited her home, before he turned to fix his stare on her profile.

“So, what was it that you wanted to ask me?”

Emma’s eyes flew over to the open notepad beside her coffee machine. After she’d made the arrangements for Killian’s visit, she’d decided to sit down and list all of the questions that she wanted to ask him, so that she wouldn’t get distracted and blurt out whatever was on her mind. But as she looked down at the words she’d scrawled across the page, the blue ink just seemed to blur together into a chaotic mess of scribbles, and she found herself asking the only question that wasn’t on her list.

“Why did you come to the workshop?”

At Killian’s silence, she turned back to face him and found the vampire watching her with his brow raised in a silent question.

“Zelena told me that you don’t normally come to the workshops,” she explained. “So why did you come to _this_ one?”

“Why did _you_ come to the workshop?” he challenged, and Emma was glad that she had their drinks to prepare so that he wouldn’t see the way her eyes rolled towards the ceiling. Did becoming a vampire suddenly make you an expert in psychology too? Maybe she should add that to her list of questions for the night.

When she finally set two steaming mugs down onto the table, the look on Killian’s face told her that he wasn’t planning to answer her question until she’d answered his. So she summoned up all of her courage to give him that answer.

“I wanted to call you out on your prank,” she told him. “I thought that there was no way you’d make it through the entire day without slipping up at least once. And I wanted to be there when you did.”

Killian took a sip from his drink, the hot liquid not bothering him at all, and then spoke again. “Is that the _only_ reason that you wanted to go?”

The word _yes_ was on the tip of Emma’s tongue, but her internal lie-detector chose that moment to start blaring its alarm, a chant of _LIAR… LIAR… LIAR_ ringing through her mind.

Killian raised a brow that told her he knew what she was thinking, and for a brief moment, Emma wondered if Twilight had managed to get _something_ right with the whole mind-reading vampires thing. Because it certainly felt as though Killian could read her like an open book.

“Okay, maybe I just wanted to see you again,” she finally confessed, whispering the words so softly that if he hadn’t been a vampire, he probably wouldn’t have heard them. “You fascinated me.”

“Fascinated?” he parroted back. “As in I used to fascinate you and now no longer do, or…?”

“You _still_ fascinate me,” she reluctantly admitted. It’s why she hadn’t been able to put him out of her mind since Halloween. She’d never met anyone quite like Killian Jones before, and Emma was pretty sure that even if she decided to live forever, she would probably never meet anyone else like him again.

“You fascinate me too,” he confessed. “The moment I stepped onto this street I could pick you out of the masses. I heard the curse words you’d mutter after your neighbor complimented your Halloween decorations. I heard the heavy sighs and the mumbled protests whenever someone knocked on your door. The way you restarted your movie six times just to try and sit and watch it through in one go, only to be interrupted each and every time. A large part of me almost skipped over your house because of it. I didn’t think you’d be very receptive to what I had to say, and I thought that out of everyone on this street, you might be the least likely to laugh it off and instead, just slam the door in my face. But if my centuries of experience in this world have taught me anything, it’s that sometimes our first impressions are wrong. And mine certainly was that night. You were the _only_ person who invited me in, even though you didn’t fully believe what I was saying. And you heard me out. So I wanted to see just what it would take to _finally_ get you to see the truth.”

“Do you um… do you employ that tactic often?” she found herself blurting out. Killian’s brow climbed a little higher before he finally seemed to understand what it was that Emma was asking him.

“You’d make a good vampire,” he teased, instead of answering her question. “We still haven’t quite managed to cage those possessive and jealous instincts inside of us. Dracula theorizes that it’s because of how long we live. That we crave a constant in an ever-changing world and when we find it, we’re unwilling to share it for fear that it will no longer remain that anchor we so desperately seek.”

He took another sip from his coffee before setting the half-empty mug down on the table and raising his head to meet Emma’s questioning gaze.

“No. I’ve never slept with a potential recruit before,” he told her, and Emma’s internal lie detector remained silent.

“Then… why me?”

“Because, like human men, I’m not blind to your beauty, Emma. You’re a gorgeous woman. And you’re so feisty too. I kinda like that in you. You push my buttons and nobody’s dared to do that for a very long time.”

“So… you slept with me because I piss you off?”

“No, I slept with you because you’re not scared of me, Emma. Because you’re not afraid to speak your mind around me. Because you’re intelligent and strong-willed, but there’s also a softness inside of you. I slept with you because I think you’re beautiful and fascinating and I know you find me attractive too. And now, I can’t seem to stop thinking about how much better eternity might be with you in my life.”

Killian’s quiet confession sucked all of the air from Emma’s lungs, leaving her feeling a little dizzy. She hadn’t been expecting the vampire to be so honest with her in that respect, and now, for one of the few times in her life, Emma Swan found herself speechless.

“Was that all you wanted to know?” he eventually asked, when she’d remained silent for a beat too long.

“No,” Emma croaked out, but she didn’t say anything else.

Killian sat patiently as he waited for her to find her voice, sipping at his coffee until he’d finished the drink and then standing to place the mug inside of the dishwasher. Emma didn’t need to ask how he’d found it. She assumed that his vampire senses had helped to figure it out.

“What if it’s not?” she finally asked, after what felt like hours of endless silence.

“What if _what’s_ not?”

“What if your life isn’t better with me in it?”

“It already is, Emma. I haven’t had this much fun in decades. I haven’t had these kinds of interactions with humans in far longer. And if it doesn’t work out then… it doesn’t. Eternity is too long to hold a grudge and the world is big enough for both of us to escape if we need to. But you’re asking the wrong questions again,” he told her. “What if it is better, Emma? Is that something you really want to pass up? Something that you really want to miss out on?”

“This is kind of an all-or-nothing sort of deal,” she reminded him. “Aren’t you the least bit terrified that I could end up taking a chance on this and it’ll backfire on both of us?”

“No,” he told her simply. “Because this isn’t a one time, limited offer. And you certainly shouldn’t be making it based solely on me! In fact, DracCorp laws forbid it. Make this decision _when_ you’re ready for it and _when_ you’ve had a chance to weigh up the full pros and cons of this lifestyle. Not a moment sooner. After all, that’s why we run the workshops.”

“Does it hurt?”

That was at least one of the questions on her list! Emma had read many different myths about the turning process and while some claimed that it was completely painless, others said that it was the worst pain a human would ever experience in their lifetime (thank you, Twilight!) And she’d never truly been good at handling physical pain.

“No. It’s like going to sleep,” he told her.

“How do you do it?”

“You know, if you’d stayed for the rest of the workshop you’d know all of this by now,” Killian chuckled. At Emma’s unamused look, he stood from his seat to move the chair around the table, closer to her own, before he sank back down into it.

“It’s a simple exchange of fluids. It isn’t even done personally anymore. We’ve had plenty of people undergo the procedure with an IV line and there have been no complications so far,” he explained.

Before she’d opened her front door that evening, Emma had been certain that nothing Killian said would ever shock her again.

But she’d been so very wrong.

“An IV line?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “Most people opt for the more medically advanced change, as it’s easier on their body. In order to become a vampire, a human must die with a vampire’s fluids in their system. When I was turned, it was believed that only a blood exchange would complete the transformation. But that lead to a few complications of its own. As I said earlier, vampires are notoriously possessive creatures. When we feed on any living being, we tend to claim it as our own. It caused a whole host of issues between sires and their children during the early days of our race. Issues that took decades to resolve. Thankfully, the last few centuries have seen some incredible advances in scientific research, which has shown us that any fluid containing the mutated vampire gene will transform another, if they die with it still in their system. We now ask for trusted donors to offer samples of saliva to DracCorp, and our team of scientists there extract those mutated genes from the saliva to infuse them into a solution that is administered intravenously.”

It took a moment for Emma to fully process everything that Killian had just explained to her, but when she did, one question seemed far more important than any other.

“Holy shit! Are you saying that you could literally fuck me to death?”

“Well, I’d have to fuck you first and _then_ kill you,” Killian teased. “But if you’re game I certainly am!”

Emma threw him an incredulous look and the vampire managed to keep a straight face for all of thirteen seconds, before he snorted out the loudest laugh she’d ever heard.

“Relax, Emma. It’s _all_ done using an IV line these days,” he chuckled. “The only time an exception is made is when the person consenting to the change is in a committed relationship with one of our kind. And that hasn’t happened in… centuries.”

“So, you wouldn’t be the one to change me?” she wondered, because as much as the idea was a little jarring, Emma had to admit that she wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of her last human memories being full of what it was like to have Killian moving inside of her once more.

“I’ve never changed a human before,” he replied seriously. “It’s never appealed to me. But um… if you wanted it to be _my_ mutation that you received, then I could arrange to donate for you.”

“I think I’d want that,” she stated, because Emma knew that if she made this change, it would only feel right if Killian were the one responsible for it. “But uh… you said something about feeding too. How does that work?”

“It’s become very clinical now, I’m afraid. DracCorp has anonymous human volunteers that donate to us in the same way that others donate blood for medical purposes. That blood is then distributed evenly amongst those who are registered with the corporation worldwide.”

“So you really _don’t_ bite humans?”

“Not unless we _really_ like them,” he teased. “Or if we’re _really_ desperate - but that rarely happens. Vampires can go weeks between feeds and we only become truly desperate after months of starvation.”

“And uh… what… what does it taste like?” Emma cringed a little at the idea of having to drink blood for all eternity, and Killian chuckled again at how adorable she looked when she crinkled her nose.

“To me, it tastes like the best Columbian roast coffee in the mornings and the darkest of rum in the evenings. Dracula said it always tasted like wine and water to him. After a few decades, and when there were more in our ranks, he began to theorize that our brains alter the taste to fit with whatever drinks we love best, so that we wouldn’t become repulsed by what we have to do to survive now. Nobody actually knows what it tastes of. So, maybe it’ll taste like those vanilla lattes that you love so much? Or the pinot grigio that you always have in the fridge?”

Emma nodded her head in understanding and relaxed back into her seat a little. She still wasn’t entirely sold on the whole blood-drinking aspect of the lifestyle, but knowing that it wouldn’t actually taste like she imagined blood would taste, helped.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of them as they each considered the weight of the information that had been shared that evening. Killian was the one to eventually break it, when he asked, “Would you like to go down the rest of your list? Because question number one kind of answers all of the others for you.”

At Emma’s confused look he added, “Yes, you’d need to go back to another workshop and be signed off on the course before they’ll let you make the change. And you’ll find the answers to all of your other questions while you’re there.”

“Seriously? Isn’t there like some kind of participation credit or something? Can’t you pull some strings for me?”

“It doesn’t really work like that,” he chuckled. Killian held her gaze for a long second before he reached out with his index finger to trace it softly down the back of Emma’s hand. To his surprise, she didn’t startle at the coolness of his skin, nor the surprise of his touch.

Instead, Emma swallowed heavily and the action drew Killian’s attention to the way her throat moved as she did, before the scent of her arousal began filling the kitchen. He sucked in a harsh breath, savoring every molecule of it while his eyes fluttered shut. Her arousal was intoxicating in a way that alcohol no longer was for him.

“Killian, you uh… you know what you said earlier, about there not being a time limit on this decision?” she asked, and his eyes snapped open again.

“Yeah,” the vampire croaked out, trying desperately to focus on Emma’s words and not how warm and soft her skin was under his fingertips. It had been so long since he’d been close enough to a human to be able to touch them so intimately. And he could still recall every millisecond of their afternoon together in ultra-high definition.

“Do you um… do you think that we could wait a little longer for me to make that final decision?” she asked.

“Of course, Emma. Take as much time as you need,” he assured her, pulling back to put some space between the two of them. It was completely inappropriate for him to be as hard as he was at that moment, and he needed to do _something_ to relieve the situation as fast as possible, before Emma threw him out of her home.

“So uh… do you think that maybe you’d um…? Would you wanna get some dinner with me sometime? While I’m thinking about it?” she asked, and Killian’s mind froze in its tracks.

“You wanna go out on a date with me?”

“If you want to date me,” she told him, shrugging her shoulders in a way that was intended to convey nonchalance, but only came across as awkward and clunky. “I just… I don’t wanna spend eternity alone,” she finally confessed. It had become Emma’s biggest concern ever since she’d realized that Killian was a vampire. She had spent enough time alone since her mother had died. She couldn’t imagine living for eternity that way.

“And I don’t want to spend forever with you if we’re only going to grow to resent each other,” she continued. “So, I thought that, if it’s okay with you, maybe we could try dating for a while first? I can learn a little more about you and your lifestyle, and you can learn some more about me. As long as you don’t mind me getting a few more lines around my eyes before I decide if I’m going to make that change.”

Killian slid forward a little in his seat and reached out to trace his fingers gently along the curve of Emma’s cheek, before sliding them back and into her hair. “I can promise you I won’t mind that at all,” he told her. He waited a moment for Emma’s gut to tell her that he was being truthful before he added, “And I would love to get to know you a little better over dinner. How does Friday evening sound?”

“You know, if you haven’t eaten tonight, I could always order takeout,” she suggested, her smile brightening at just how understanding and kind he’d been about everything. A few years more might not mean much to him, but they were everything to Emma, and she wanted to be certain that she was making this decision for all of the right reasons, before she signed on that dotted line.

“Well, it’s been a couple of days,” he teased, “I guess I could eat.”

Emma stood from her seat to grab her tablet off the kitchen counter. “Chinese food or Italian?” she threw back over her shoulder, towards the vampire sitting at her kitchen table. Only, he was no longer there. Instead, Killian was standing beside her, flicking through two takeout menus that he’d pulled from her junk drawer.

“The Chinese food in this country pales in comparison to the real deal. Order Italian.”

Emma giggled a little at his comment as she grabbed a bottle of wine from her fridge and a couple of glasses from the cupboard, before nodding her head towards the door that lead through to her living room.

“So… if I’m gonna be dating a vampire, does that mean I can skip the workshop now?”

“Nice try,” Killian snorted, taking the glasses from her hand to set them down on the coffee table before he reached for the bottle. “It wouldn’t set much of an example to others of our kind if Dracula’s first son was caught breaking all of his rules and laws now, would it?”

“_You’re_ Dracula’s first son?”

“What can say? Dear old Dad took a shine to a loveable pirate, back in the day.”

“You were a _pirate_?” Emma wasn’t entirely sure which piece of news she found the most shocking at that moment.

“I was a pirate before being a pirate was deemed cool! But it was only for a couple of years,” he explained, shrugging off her shocked stare. “I spent longer in the navy than I did as a pirate.”

“You were in the _navy_?”

“Sit down, Emma. If we’re gonna talk about my past, we literally have centuries to cover.”

Emma dropped down onto her couch with a dull thud as she considered just how much she’d learned about the man sitting beside her, in such a short space of time.

“Wow. My life is gonna seem _really_ boring in comparison to yours.”

“I highly doubt that, Love,” he whispered. Killian leaned in to brush a feather-light kiss to the corner of her mouth and then pulled back to say, “Now, where should I start… I was born in the fourteenth century, in England…”

Emma reached for her glass of wine and took a huge gulp of the liquid before settling back into her seat. She’d definitely been wrong that night when she’d told herself that nothing Killian could say would ever shock her again. In fact, she was starting to wonder if the man had any stories that could be described as mundane.

With another small sip from her glass, Emma allowed a smile to pull at her lips as she realized that there was a very strong possibility that she’d get to spend the rest of eternity finding that out for herself.


	8. Part VIII, The Epilogue

Emma groaned as the sound of the doorbell three houses down cut through the silence of her home.

“It’s not even dark yet,” she protested.

Her husband’s chuckles vibrated through her tummy, causing an odd rumbling sensation that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, as he pulled himself back up the bed. “They’re not very old, Love. I’m pretty sure I just heard one say it was his first year out.”

“Ugh. I guess that means we need to get up.”

“Speak for yourself. I still have an hour until I need to leave for work,” Killian chuckled, bringing his hands up to fold behind his head as he grinned at the ceiling.

The duvet was gone in an instant, and when he turned his head in the direction of the slight breeze its removal had caused, he found his wife holding on to the edges of the mattress as she teased, “If I have to be up, _you_ have to be up.”

Killian was off the bed before she could throw him from it, and he had his wife in his arms the next moment. “Happy anniversary,” he whispered, bending to brush a soft kiss to her neck, over the spot that would always serve as a reminder of their love.

“Happy anniversary,” she whispered back, leaning into his embrace.

It had been eighteen years since that Halloween night when Killian had first appeared on Emma Swan’s doorstep, changing her life forever. When she’d opened her door that evening, she’d never dreamed that she’d end up finding love as a result of that one unsolicited call, let alone an entirely new life, home, and family.

Two years later, Emma had finally taken the next step in their relationship. After spending all day in bed with Killian, locked in various intimate positions that ensured she would receive plenty of his bodily fluids, Dracula’s best doctor had stopped by to set up an IV line that would end her human life. Emma’s last memory of that night had been the feel of Killian’s teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her neck, as he fed from her for the final time.

The following year, the couple had said their vows in a small, intimate ceremony in Transylvania, and since then, they’d taken to exploring Europe together. Which was how they’d found themselves celebrating their fifteenth wedding anniversary in Barcelona.

Killian was just contemplating taking his wife back to bed for more celebrations, when the sound of footsteps on the little path leading towards their front door caught his attention.

“Rain check?” Emma teased, dancing out of his embrace to pick up her black maxi dress from where he’d thrown it on the floor earlier that day. She ran a brush through her long blonde hair and then turned back for one last look at her naked husband, but sadly found that he was already stepping into a clean pair of jeans.

“Definitely,” Killian promised, pulling the denim the rest of the way up and securing the button, before he reached for a fresh white cotton t-shirt hanging inside their shared closet. “I’ll do this one. You can get the rest while I’m working.” He leaned in to press a quick kiss to Emma’s lips before flitting out of the bedroom.

Killian’s feet had just touched the floor in the hallway when the bell rang. He took a moment to slow himself down to human speed before he reached for the bowl of candy Emma had left on the sideboard, and then pulled the door open.

“Trick or treat!” came a chorus of excited voices.

“Oh my gosh, look at all of these scary vampires,” he gasped, the Spanish language flowing easily from his lips as he took in the four little boys dressed in black capes with plastic fangs in their mouth. “I hope my candy donation is good enough to save my life tonight.”

Killian held out the bowl in silent offering and watched as each of the kids helped themselves to a couple of pieces. When they were finished, the woman with them gave him a somewhat flustered smile before she finally encouraged the boys to thank the nice man, and then ushered them back down the path and across to the next house on their street. Killian sent the kids one last smile while he was closing the door, and then turned to find his wife making her way down the stairs, looking just as elegant as she always did.

“Ugh, you make leaving the house for work tough when you look that good,” he groaned, settling his hands on her hips as her arms came up to loop around his neck.

“You’ll only be gone for a few hours. We’ve spent longer apart before.”

“I know. But it always sucks having to leave you behind on our anniversary.”

“Then you should have picked a better day to work,” Emma giggled.

“Hey, mock all you want - but it works. I mean, you _never_ would have invited me in if I’d have knocked any other night of the year.”

“True,” she reluctantly admitted. “But you’d better not spend your evening wooing other pretty, single humans when your vampire wife is at home waiting for you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Killian leaned in to give her a sweet kiss to seal his words and groaned in frustration when the sound of their doorbell cut through the moment. He’d been far too lost in all things _Emma_ to have noticed the footsteps on their path, or the excited chatter of children on the street outside.

Emma kind of loved that even after eighteen years together, she still had the ability to make one of the most powerful vampires in the world forget about anything else going on around him.

When the doorbell rang again, they both sighed in defeat before giving each other one final kiss as Emma grabbed for the bowl of candy on the sideboard and Killian reached for his jacket. He knew that now the trick or treating had started, they wouldn’t have any more quality time together for a few hours. So he wanted to head out as soon as possible, with the hopes that he’d get back to his beautiful wife even faster.

“Are you absolutely sure about that jacket?” Emma asked, as she watched her husband check his reflection over in the mirror, before he grabbed his car keys from the little hook next to it.

“Of course. It’s Barcelona,” he said, like that would explain everything.

Emma’s eyes lingered over the leopard print pattern a second longer before she nodded her head in agreement. As much as she hated to admit it, the jacket did look good on him. And if there was any country in the world that would appreciate it’s beauty, it was the one they were currently visiting.

The words, “Trick or treat!” followed Killian out of the house that evening. He lingered on the sidewalk for a moment to watch as his wife interacted with the group of children on their doorstep, before sliding into his car to head for the small district he’d identified earlier that year as the best potential target for new recruits.

The drive didn’t take long, and Killian soon found himself pulling the car into a parking space and killing the engine. He reached over to withdraw a couple of the latest pamphlets from a box he kept under the passenger’s seat, and then straightened up to check his reflection one last time. With the leaflets safely tucked inside of his pocket, and a few business cards stashed in another, Killian stepped out of his car and headed for the first house on the street.

He took a second just to run through his lines in his mind and then reached out to rap his knuckles on the green-painted wooden door.

“Good evening, Ma’am. Do you have a moment to talk about Dracula?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Thank you all for the wonderful response you've given this story. I honestly never expected that silly little idea I had in October to blossom into this. It's been fun playing with this version of our OTP and I really hope you guys have enjoyed reading the piece as much as I enjoyed writing it. **
> 
> **Happy New Year! **


	9. Outtake I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** This is my contribution to the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2020. I hope you all enjoy it. ******

The first time it happened was less than two months into their relationship. Killian had been teaching Emma how to cook some of his favorite dishes from around the globe, however, when it became clear that she was useless at the _actual_ cooking part, he’d assigned her to chopping duty.

“So, I was talking to Zelena at work today. She was saying that there’s another workshop coming up soon that she’s been invited to,” Emma was saying, as she attempted to finely dice an onion. It wasn’t going well, and Killian would likely have to work his magic on the vegetable before he added it to the pan, but at least she was _trying_ to help. “Does that mean you’ll be out recruiting ag – Fuck!”

The smell hit Killian before Emma had finished uttering the expletive. He was already turning around and reaching for her hand, without any conscious thought on his behalf.

“It’s just a scratch,” she protested, trying to pull her hand free from his own.

Killian’s grip only seemed to tighten around her wrist.

Emma’s brow creased with her confusion and she raised her eyes to try and meet her boyfriend’s gaze. Instead of the stormy blue she’d been used to staring into, Killian’s eyes were pitch black and hungry.

“Oh,” she squeaked out, as she finally realized what was bothering him. The small droplet of blood on the end of her finger had barely even registered with her. Emma had done more damage to herself tripping over a stone in the street before. But her vampire-boyfriend’s gaze was locked onto the ruby red liquid that had pooled on the tip of her finger.

“K … Killian?” she whispered, because every part of her brain was urging her not to startle him. “Is everything okay?”

His eyes slammed shut so abruptly that her heart jumped a little. However, after a few long seconds, his grip on her wrist relaxed as Killian took a small step back and away from her.

“I um … I need some air,” was all he said, before disappearing from the room in the blink of an eye. The only indication that he’d left the house was the snick of the front door closing behind him.

The entire incident had lasted for just a few minutes, and yet, Emma couldn’t help but worry that its impact on their relationship would be felt for far longer.

* * *

The second time it happened was a little after their first Halloween together. Killian had been working the night of the holiday so in his attempts to “make it up” to Emma, he’d decided to take her out the following weekend. As soon as she’d finished work on Friday evening he’d whisked her away to the finest hotel in the city, and had spent the rest of the night showing Emma just how sorry he was for missing the day he deemed to be their anniversary.

The following morning they’d explored the city leisurely before heading for dinner and a show in the evening. However, instead of heading straight back to the hotel after the performance, they’d decided to stop at a bar for a few more drinks.

Emma was a little tipsy by the time they’d ordered their second, and with Killian whispering in her ear all of the cheesy lines that he could hear the men in the room attempting to employ on the women of the city, she was more clumsy than usual. When her glass slipped through her fingers she moved as quickly as she could to try and catch it, and instead ended up smashing it into the wood of the table.

“Shit,” she cursed, as the deep crimson wine narrowly missed her pink dress and instead began seeping into the dark denim of her boyfriend’s jeans. “Oh God, Killian. I am so sorry.”

Killian said nothing, which was completely unlike him, so Emma abandoned her attempts to mop up the mess and instead turned her attention up to his face. The vampire was sitting rigidly in his seat, his hands gripping on to the edges of it with so much force that Emma was sure he would leave hand impressions in the wood. However, it was the blackness consuming his irises that told her what must have happened.

With a slight tremble to her hands, she turned each of them over and quickly found a long scratch on her right palm.

“I’ll uh … I’ll go and clean this up,” she told him, making to stand and head for the bathrooms, but Killian’s hand shot out to wrap around her wrist before her ass left the seat.

“Don’t!”

He sounded absolutely nothing like himself at that moment. A part of Emma’s brain was busy telling her that she should ignore his warning and run before he could hurt her. Thankfully, a much larger part of her knew that this was Killian and he would _never_ do anything that would harm her, so she forced her racing heart to calm itself.

“Okay,” she said, keeping her tone as soft and reassuring as it could be in a loud and busy bar.

Emma didn’t try and pull her wrist free, however. Instead, she allowed her arm to relax in his grip, showing her boyfriend that she trusted him completely at that moment, even if he didn’t fully trust himself.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat that way. Emma lost track of the time. All she could focus on was the burning ice of his hand wrapped around her wrist and the darkness of Killian’s stare. Until he suddenly moved. The grip he had around Emma’s wrist tightened and for a brief moment, she was worried that this would be it – that he was actually going to kill her! Instead, Killian simply lifted her hand to his face and inhaled deeply. His eyes fluttered shut as he did, and Emma held herself still as she waited for him to make a decision about what to do next.

When he opened his eyes they were finally back to the stormy blue that she’d come to love so much over the past year, and his grip on her wrist had gone lax.

“You should clean up,” he mumbled, sounding almost ashamed of himself as he did.

Emma nodded her agreement and gently pulled her wrist free. It took her a few extra seconds to gather herself enough to push up to her feet, but instead of heading straight for the bathroom, she raised her left hand to cup Killian’s cheek and tilted his head until she could press a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered, before heading straight over to the women’s restroom at the back of the bar. She didn’t hear Killian’s reply, yet somehow, Emma still knew that he’d whispered the words back to her.

* * *

“Why haven’t you fed from me yet?”

Killian’s head shot up from where it had been buried in the book he’d been reading, to fix his girlfriend with a bewildered stare. He’d known Emma Swan for fifteen months now, and she was still the only person in his life that continued to shock him.

“Excuse me?”

“Why haven’t you fed from me yet?” she repeated, as she took her seat on the sofa next to him and held out one of the innocuous glass bottles that had quickly become a staple in her refrigerator.

“Where has this come from?” Killian asked, his brow furrowing with his confusion.

Emma shrugged her shoulders as she pulled her legs up to tuck underneath her. “I just … when we met you said something about me having no idea _how_ you wanted me. And since then you’ve been around me twice while I’ve been bleeding and you looked like you wanted nothing more than to get a taste for yourself. When that delivery came today it got me thinking about why you’re still living on donated blood when you have a live donor sitting right here. We’ve been together for over a year and you’ve never once tried to feed from me. Why?”

Killian set the bottle of donated blood down on the table and then turned to face his girlfriend. Only _she_ would take his lack of feeding attempts as some kind of personal insult.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he told her, as he reached for her hands. “It’s just complicated, Emma. Feeding is a very basic instinct for our kind. Drinking donated blood from a bottle helps to control those other basic urges and instincts that rear their ugly heads when we feed.”

“What does that mean?”

Emma shifted a little in her seat. It was the kind of shift that told Killian now that he’d started this conversation, she wasn’t going to let it go until she’d gotten an answer that she deemed satisfactory from him.

“Feeding can be quite a … a sensual experience for us,” he explained. His brain was racing a mile a second as he tried to figure out how best to clarify all of this to Emma, without making himself sound like some kind of sexual deviant. “You know your basic biology, right? Vampires feed from deep veins. They contain the majority of the blood in a human’s system, so it makes more sense to feed there. However, as the name suggests, these are not the veins that run close to the surface of your skin.”

Emma wasn’t sure if he was aware of the action, but she could feel Killian’s thumb sweeping over the veins and arteries in her wrist and lower arm, tracing the patterns they made under her skin long after the blue line disappeared from her human sight.

“That means to feed from them, we need to bite down deep and then suck _hard_ on the wound. Given the location of most of these deep veins and the amount of pressure and suction needed, it can easily become something more for both the vampire who’s feeding and the person they’re feeding from. When you combine that with our rather protective and possessive natures, it can lead to more than a few problems.”

“What kind of problems?” Emma pressed, because so far, she wasn’t seeing the big issue that seemed to be holding her boyfriend back.

“Some become overly-protective of those they feed on, following them everywhere and anywhere under the guise of protecting their food source. Some become so lost in the pleasure of the feed and … and whatever else they may be doing at the time, that they overfeed and end up killing their host. And some … some become obsessive. They won’t let their host out of their sight for days on end, sometimes feeding on them constantly, sometimes satisfying other hungers. It never normally ends well, Emma. It’s why DracCorp now restricts feeding to either times of utter desperation or between mated couples.”

“But we’re a mated couple, right? I mean, I think we are. I _feel_ like we are.”

Killian chuckled lightly as he leaned in to brush the tip of his nose to Emma’s. She was still so adorable whenever she scrunched it up with her confusion.

“Humans don’t mate. But yes, I’m pretty certain you’re mine, Emma Swan. I just… I don’t want to hurt you. In _any_ way. I don’t want to be the kind of boyfriend that won’t let you out of the house for days on end because I’m too busy being obsessively protective of you to let you out of my sight. I don’t want to be the kind of mate that becomes so consumed by your taste that I end up taking too much at a time. And I certainly don’t want to be the kind of vampire that takes one sip and can’t stop until there’s nothing left to give. So that’s why I haven’t fed from you, Emma. Because you mean more to me than the taste of your blood _ever_ could.”

Emma leaned in to brush the softest of kisses over Killian’s lips before she turned herself slightly to lean against his chest, stretching her legs out across the sofa. “For the record, I don’t think you’d ever hurt me,” she told him, reaching for his hand to tangle their fingers together. “However, I love that you love me enough not to want to risk it.”

“I do. I love you, Emma,” he declared, before pressing a kiss into her hair and then turning his attention back to his book.

Killian had thought that was the last they would speak of the matter. But he’d been so very, very wrong.

* * *

“So, what was it you wanted to talk about?” Zelena asked, as Emma set down two glasses of wine on their small table.

They’d escaped work a little early that afternoon, thanks to a hack of their system that was going to take Graham and the IT team the rest of the day to fix. Emma had decided to make full use of those few hours she’d have where Killian wasn’t expecting her home.

“I want to give Killian something special for Christmas,” she began carefully, as she examined the pale liquid in her glass. “I just don’t know how to go about giving it to him.”

“Okay, how about we try this again and you can be a little vaguer?” Zelena teased.

“I want to offer myself to him.” At Zelena’s look of complete confusion, Emma added, “I want him to feed from me.”

For a moment, the female vampire seemed stunned into stillness. She wasn’t blinking or breathing. It would have been freaky, if Emma hadn’t gotten used to seeing Killian react that way to shocking news. As she had, she sat silently and sipped at her glass of wine until Zelena finally drew in a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Emma asked casually, snapping the other woman’s harsh gaze up to her face.

“Emma, do you have _any_ idea what you’re asking for?”

“A little. Killian explained all of the negative consequences associated with feeding from a live human and why DracCorp restricts it, but I don’t think it’ll be like that. He’s strong. He’s patient. And he loves me. He won’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that,” Zelena threw in.

“I do! I know him, Zelena. I know what he’s like. He won’t hurt me. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did. His self-preservation instincts will kick in long before he can do me any serious harm. I’ve seen how he looks at me when I cut myself. I’ve seen how badly he wants a taste. How much he wants to claim me in that one final way. He wants it, even if he won’t admit it. So … I wanna give it to him. I was hoping you could help me work out how to do that.”

“I … You … He … _No, Emma!_ This is dangerous and I’m guessing because you’ve come to me it means that Killian has already refused you. This is a suicide mission and I refuse to be a part of it.”

“Technically, I haven’t asked him to feed from me yet,” Emma argued, because that was true. She’d never explicitly come out and said the words, she’d just subtly hinted to it a few times. “I was hoping you could help me work out how best to phrase that request so that he might _actually_ consider it.”

“Uh … no! You’re on your own there,” Zelena told her. “I’m not gonna help you put yourself into a situation where you could end up getting killed. You happen to have grown on me over the last couple of years. I’d miss you if anything happened to you. And, I’m rather attached to remaining in one piece,” she tacked on, although it was so quiet that even Emma couldn’t hear her.

“Fine. Then I’ll just have to find a way to convince him that he can feed from me on my own.”

Unfortunately, without another vampire to confide in, that proved more difficult than she had anticipated. The only way she could imagine convincing Killian he wouldn’t hurt her was to slip some of her own blood into the bottled supply he had delivered to her home – but Emma ruled out that idea as soon as it came to her. She loved her stubborn vampire and she wasn’t going to use cheap tricks and deception to force his hand. Killian would _never_ have done the same to her, so she refused to even contemplate the pros and cons of carrying out that plan.

For weeks, she wavered back and forth on simply begging him to try it and continuing her research quietly, but eventually, fate found its own way to intervene.

Emma had been upstairs enjoying a hot bath when she’d accidentally knocked her razor off the lip of the tub, and it had nicked her finger.

Killian was standing in the doorway before she could finish uttering the word, “Fuck!” His eyes were wide as he surveyed the scene and then every inch of her body, looking for an open wound.

“It’s just a scratch,” Emma promised, holding out her finger for him to see.

Killian’s dark eyes took in the small cut on her slightly-reddened flesh, before they slid down her wet and naked body. The kind of hunger behind his gaze this time was more familiar to Emma. She’d seen that look plenty of times since they’d started dating.

“You could uh … you can always join me,” she offered. The tub wasn’t terribly big and it would be a tight squeeze for both of them, but she was sure her intelligent vampire would figure out a way to make it pleasurable for the two of them.

With what appeared to be great difficulty, Killian shook his head no.

“Come here,” she invited, curling her cut finger towards her body as she beckoned him over.

Killian’s feet seemed to move without his approval as he was soon kneeling by the tub with a look of utter confusion on his face.

Emma was careful to keep her injured finger away from him as she leaned forward to brush an awkward kiss to his lips. “You won’t hurt me,” she told him, because she was absolutely certain of that. “It’s not from a deep vein. And I want this, Killian. I want to share this with you. I want to do this for you.”

“Emma,” he growled out, his voice rough and husky in a way that suggested it was more than just her blood he wanted at that moment.

“I’m not gonna force this on you, Killian. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just … I hate that my humanness puts you in such a difficult position thanks to this one unknown factor. I hate that you love me so much that as soon as you smell my blood you come running, and yet, being around it hurts you because you’re forcing yourself to resist it. So I just want you to know that you don’t have to hold yourself back for me. I love you, Killian. I trust you. And if you wanna try this then I’m more than happy for you to do so.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered, and yet, Emma could tell that his desire to protect her was slowly being beaten down by that instinct inside of him, urging him to feed.

“You won’t,” she assured him. Before he could speak again, she added, “If you look out of control, I’ll just smack you over the head with the shower attachment until you stop.”

Killian snorted out a laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. “Only _you_ could make a joke at a time like this,” he muttered fondly.

Emma noted with some curiosity that his eyes were beginning to lighten at the edges and his body had relaxed ever-so-slightly. That hunger was still there, but it wasn’t as dominant as it had been before.

“That’s because I know you better than anyone else,” she told him, reaching out to stroke the fingers of her left hand confidently through the short hairs just behind his right ear. Killian leaned into the touch, his muscles relaxing further, and Emma internally congratulated herself on a job well done.

She left her fingers in place, scratching out a familiar pattern as she raised her right hand from behind the ceramic of the tub and brought it out to rest between them. Her finger was no longer dripping blood, but she could still see the wetness of it shining in the slight indent the razor blade had made.

Killian’s eyes had slipped shut under her ministrations and Emma wasn’t sure if he knew that he’d reached for her arm. She tried to relax it in his grip as she continued running the fingers of her other hand through his hair, but her coordination wasn’t as good as she thought it was, and instead, both hands fell still.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” Killian whispered.

Emma nodded her head in agreement as he raised her hand to his face. His nose brushed gently over the palm of her hand, tracing the line of the veins that ran through it before his tongue peeked out to swipe over the droplet of blood that had collected on her fingertip.

Emma saw something close to a shudder pass through his body as the taste hit his tongue, and while she knew she probably should have been disgusted by the whole thing, a part of her couldn’t help but be aroused by it all.

“You can take more,” she encouraged.

“No,” Killian declared firmly. “Not tonight. Not now.” His eyes sprang open again, dark and filled with the kind of hunger Emma loved seeing behind his gaze. “Right now, there’s something else I want more.”

She wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened. One minute she was staring into those beautiful eyes and the next Killian had her out of the tub, wrapped in a towel, and in his arms as he strode through to their bedroom.

Emma thought she might have gotten a little taste of those possessive and obsessive vampire traits that evening, as her boyfriend thoroughly ravished her body. Killian had always been an attentive and methodical lover, taking his time to please her before he’d even consider attending to his own needs. But that evening, he’d been almost single-minded in his determination to draw every ounce of pleasure from her body – three times!

Emma called into work sick the next day as she lay sprawled across her vampire-boyfriend’s chest. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to move, even if she had wanted to. And with the way Killian’s arms were locked tightly around her body, she _really_ didn’t want to.


End file.
